


Sand and Mirrors

by Shadow_Side



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1290289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil and Kevin: two men living separate lives in separate towns, united only by a love of radio broadcasting and a shared physical appearance. Right?</p>
<p>Wrong. So, so wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Incomplete

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that popped into my head from out of nowhere and wouldn't leave me alone, and is due entirely to the fact that I have a very long-running thing for alternate doubles (I'm blaming you, _Star Trek_ mirrorverse!) and a Kevin muse who will not shut up..! This is also the first of my NV fics that doesn't fit with the continuity of the others I've written (with the exception of The Other Christmas Fic, which _so_ does not count!) and thereby allows me to put a different slant on things (albeit with some familiar elements, because, hey, it's still me! And totally not my evil double!)
> 
> Also, for anyone keeping track, I am now spelling 'Strexcorp' correctly. (Shush, I'm British, it looks and sounds like it needs a space in the middle!) Needless to say, whether I am talking about Strex Corp or Strexcorp, you can be assured they are the same source of all transcendent evil… ah, I mean, advanced productivity and corporate responsibility and all hail our mighty and benevolent overlords and…
> 
> …help?!

Sandstorms never used to worry Cecil.

They've always been a fact of life in Night Vale; something you just learn to accept, like the heat, or the scarcity of trees, or that dream everyone has on September 17th every year with the figures out in the darkness, beckoning them towards a towering mountain that can't possibly be real.

Cecil never used to be alarmed by sandstorms. Sure, you have to take precautions, and stay indoors, and accept that the City Council may be using them as cover for something they'll never talk about, but that's hardly reason to worry. Usually, spending an afternoon or an evening stuck inside because of a sandstorm is an excuse to get an editorial written, or settle down with a decent movie.

Or… just stay in bed with Carlos. These days that's always a good option too. And it's one Cecil tends to favour whenever there's a sandstorm now… but it isn't just because being with his brilliant scientist boyfriend is always a joy in its own right.

There's another reason. When the sands whip up; when he feels them raging beyond the windows, beyond the safety of the walls and roofs and minor curses holding the buildings together… he remembers.

He remembers the day of _The_ Sandstorm. Night Vale has plenty of sandstorms every year and several of the historical ones have significant names, but _The_ Sandstorm is certainly the most significant in recent memory. A lot of people call it the Doppelganger Storm, for reasons that should be obvious when you consider it was during that very sandstorm that the doubles appeared. The mirror-selves that everyone was faced with. Everyone _fought_.

But Cecil didn't. Not like everyone else did, at least. Everyone else found themselves facing down their identical copy, right down to the clothing, the voice, the _eyes_. There are still dozens of people who won't reveal – maybe they don't even know – if they are the original version of themself, or the doppelganger.

It never happened to Cecil. It never happened to Carlos, either, which he says is probably something to do with him not having been in town long, though sometimes Cecil suspects there's more to it than that. But Cecil knows it should have happened to him. He's Night Valean, born and bred, and on the day of the sandstorm… he'd sat waiting, hoping that – sooner or later – his double would appear.

But he didn't. The vortex did, instead; the vortex that took Cecil to… to that other place. That _awful_ place. He understands now that it was Desert Bluffs, but at the time, he'd thought… he'd thought…

It's best not to think. Not about that place. Nor about the man he met in the vortex, the man he's sure was his own double, but… not like everyone else's. Not just an identical copy. This man – the man he's told is named Kevin – was different. Identical… but different. Which is of course impossible, and yet true at the same time.

And Cecil can't forget his face… which ought to be obvious, given that it was his own. Well… almost his own.

His eyes don't look like that. No one's eyes should look like that.

All of this runs through Cecil's mind as he works on his broadcast, this particular day. He tries to focus – and he is a professional after all, so he's quite good at it – but every time he has reason to pause… the thoughts sink back in. The memory of the bulletin he had to open with: the latest warning from the City Council.

There's another sandstorm on the way.

Just after he goes to the weather, his phone starts to buzz, and – glancing at the screen – he takes the call.

"Hey," he says, knowing he's already giving too much away in his tone.

"Hey," Carlos replies. "I heard your earlier report. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Cecil insists. But he knows Carlos will see straight through him. He's so smart.

"Come round to my place tonight?" Carlos asks. "I'm sure I can find some way to distract you from… whatever's on your mind."

Cecil smiles a little. It's hard not to. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"And you'll never have to find out. I'll see you soon."

***

It's late.

The sandstorm rages on outside, hidden by the curtains covering the windows. There haven't been any weird occurrences as yet, although Cecil has had his phone turned off for quite a while because he's been… busy. And right now, he has no desire to look and see if he's got any news alerts.

He's quite comfortable where he is, lying in bed with Carlos, curled up against his boyfriend's chest and listening to the soft rhythm of his breath. It's… comforting.

Carlos traces gentle fingertips along Cecil's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

"I don't know," Cecil admits. "I… don't like thinking about it, but at the same time… it's hard not to, whenever there's a storm."

"I know," Carlos tells him. "I worry about you, you know. I worried about you that day after the sandstorm – _The_ Sandstorm – when you called and asked if it was possible for a person to have a mirror-double who is pure evil."

Cecil can't quite meet his eyes at this. "Science may not have proven it yet… but it's possible. I know it's possible. I…"

He trails off, curling in tighter. "…He was _me_ , Carlos. That's what's so unsettling. If it had been someone else, I could have just let it go as another weird quirk of Night Vale, but… he was _me_."

"He wasn't you, Cecil," Carlos replies, softly, the strangest little edge to his voice. "He was your double. Your mirror. Your… alternate. Like… a twin, but not quite."

"I know, but… but there he was, all… _me_!" Cecil insists. "I don't know what scared me more: the fact he looked just like me, or the fact… the way…"

As Cecil trails off, Carlos grips his hand, and Cecil looks up at him. "It was his eyes. The _darkness_ in them was overwhelming, and yet, he seemed… so _normal_. It would have been easier if he'd been as monstrous as I claimed, as… otherworldly. But he wasn't. He was me. Me, if I took a different path."

"But he _wasn't_ you," Carlos pushes. "And you didn't take that path. And that's what counts. Trust me. That's what counts."

It would be so wonderful if it were that easy. If Cecil could just sink safely into his boyfriend's words and feel for sure that everything was all right. Sometimes, for a moment, he can… but the truth is still there, lingering at the back of his awareness. The knowledge that, somewhere beyond the walls and windows and sand… another him is steeped in blood.

Revelling in it, perhaps.

He shudders, and curls in tighter. Carlos holds him for a moment and then gently pushes him onto his back, slipping into place on top of him. "I love you, you know," his beautiful scientist says. "And I promise, no matter the person your double may be, _you_ are the caring, decent man I fell for. And if I have to remind you of that every single time there's a sandstorm… I will."

Despite the fears at the back of his mind, Cecil smiles up at him. "I may just take you up on that," he replies.

"Please do," Carlos answers. "I am a scientist, after all. We believe in… repetition."

It's amazing how bad he can make that sound.

Well. At least Cecil is distracted again.

***

The next day dawns bright and clear. The sandstorm is long past, and the air is fresh and pleasant.

It makes a welcome change. Leaving Carlos curled up on his couch ( _"It's not daytime TV, it's social research!"_ ), Cecil heads off to work, trying to put the thoughts of the previous evening behind him.

Other than a minor news story about the sandstorm – which passed with no serious damage, no casualties, and no weird or unexpected occurrences beyond those that the City Council graciously forewarned everyone about – there's nothing else to draw his mind back, and Cecil has soon stopped thinking about it altogether. He's got other things to focus on, like some very odd traffic reports, and an update on the expansion of their benevolent overlords… er, corporate stakeholders… from Strexcorp.

And then, during the weather – Carlos' favourite time to text him – things get even more promising.

_'I have a surprise for you,'_ the text reads.

_'Oh? ;-)'_ Cecil replies, hopefully.

_'It's a *surprise!*'_ Carlos insists. _'But you'll like it. Hurry home…'_

Cecil leaves the building so rapidly at the end of the broadcast that Intern Julia hurries back in to check that the booth isn't on fire.

It isn't. But Khoshekh is hungry…

***

When Cecil gets back to Carlos' place, he finds his boyfriend has been busy. The lighting is low, but the candles more than help with that. Dinner is on the table – along with a very promising bottle of wine – and Carlos himself is wearing the shirt that makes him look even more heart-quickeningly perfect than he usually does. Which is quite an achievement.

"I thought you needed distracting," Carlos tells him, as Cecil pulls him into an appreciative hug. "So I took some time out to make a few preparations, just for you."

And they make very, very good use of all of it. And then some. By midnight, they're both lying sprawled in bed, sated and content – in more ways than one – and still a little buzzed from the wine.

"…Remind me to need distracting more often," Cecil murmurs. "Like, _a lot_ more often. What were you saying about repetition being important for science? Well… there should be so much repetition. For science, Carlos. _For science_."

Carlos grins at him. "I'd say tonight was a resounding success. Scientifically-speaking, of course…"

And it was. It really, really was.

***

There are no uncovered mirrors in Cecil's apartment. In either of their apartments, now. It's… just the way Cecil has always been. The way he's always… chosen to live.

He doesn't question it. It was his mother's idea, and mothers know best.

But as he lies down to sleep, he catches his reflection – just for a second – in the polished surface of the nightstand, shimmering in the fading candlelight.

Odd. For an instant, he could almost have thought that…

…no. No.

Cecil pays it no more mind, and curls up to sleep in Carlos' arms.

***

Sandstorms don't worry Kevin.

They've always been a fact of life in Desert Bluffs; something you just learn to accept, like the heat, or the scarcity of trees, or that dream everyone has on September 29th every year with the figures walking out of the rising sun, beckoning them towards a bright and productive future.

Kevin has never been alarmed by sandstorms. The weather is the weather, and some days you just have to accept what the world throws at you, knowing that you'll be infinitely better off for responding to it with hope and grace, rather than fear and resentment. Hiding from the weather does impact on his useful time, it's true, but there's always scope to get an editorial written or practice his Linear-B pronunciation, which makes some of the more demanding rituals that much easier to get through first time without unforeseen side-effects.

They make him think more, though. When the sands whip up; when he feels them raging beyond the windows, beyond the comfortingly blood-streaked walls and roofs and ancient demonic edicts holding the buildings together… he remembers.

He remembers the day of _The_ Sandstorm. Desert Bluffs has plenty of sandstorms every year and several of the historical ones have significant names, but _The_ Sandstorm is certainly the most significant in recent memory. A lot of people call it the Doppelganger Storm, for reasons that should be obvious when you consider it was during that very sandstorm that the doubles appeared. The mirror-selves that everyone was faced with. Everyone _befriended_.

But Kevin didn't. Not like everyone else did, at least. Everyone else found themselves encountering their identical copy, right down to the clothing, the voice, the _smile_. It truly was a miraculous and wonder-filled day.

It never happened to Kevin, and as far as he knows he's the only person in town who can say that. But he knows it should have happened to him. He's a lifelong resident of Desert Bluffs, born, bred and soul-bound, and on the day of the sandstorm… he'd sat waiting, hoping that – sooner or later – his double would appear.

But he didn't. The vortex did, instead; the vortex that took Kevin to that strange and otherworldly place. That… bloodless place. He understands now that it was Night Vale, but at the time, he'd thought perhaps it was another era entirely…

He thinks about it a lot. Thinks about that odd place. Thinks about the man he met in the vortex, the man he knows was his own double, but… not like everyone else's. Not just an identical copy. This man – the man he's told is named Cecil – was different. Identical… but different. Which is of course impossible, and yet true at the same time.

And Kevin can't forget his face… which ought to be obvious, given that it was his own. Well… almost his own.

His other self hadn't looked happy. Why wasn't he happy?

All of this runs through Kevin's mind as he works on his broadcast, this particular day. He focuses just fine – he's a professional after all, so he's very good at it – though every time he has reason to pause… the thoughts surge back in. The memory of the bulletin he opened with: the update from the climatology division in Strexcorp.

There's another sandstorm on the way.

As he goes to the weather, the door to the booth opens and a young man looks in.

"Hey, Kevin, sorry to bother you, but Ted said could you drop by and see him when you're done in here?"

"Sure thing, I won't be much longer. Uh… sorry, I don't think we've met."

"Oh, right, yes, sorry, I'm Jacob, your new intern."

Kevin raises his eyebrows. "What happened to Leah?"

Jacob drops his voice as he answers. "Unauthorised summoning ritual," he says. "The Strex enforcement team came by this morning. They… were not pleased."

"I can imagine," Kevin replies, with the faintest hint of a shudder. "Well. Try not to do anything like that."

"I'll do my best," Jacob promises.

***

When the day's broadcast is over, Kevin heads to the office belonging to Ted – Desert Bluffs Community Radio's staff weatherman – and knocks brightly on the door.

"Come in, come in," Ted calls from inside.

Kevin steps into the office. It's definitely one of the most interesting in the community radio station, bedecked as it is with maps and pictures connected by string, and interspersed with scrawled symbols, some so old they defy translation.

"What up, Kev, my man?!" Ted greets him, turning from his forecasting wall.

This makes Kevin grin a little. "You know you are probably the cheeriest person I've ever met?" he remarks. "Good on you!"

Ted grins in return. "Loved the show today, b-t-dubs. Especially your segment on the sandstorm. Strexcorp's bulletins are always so informative, but I do like the thoughtful twist you put on them. Certainly brightens my afternoon!"

"I do my best!" Kevin replies, with a little bow. "Well. Intern Jacob said you wanted to see me about something?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Ted exclaims, bounding over to his collection of maps on one of the side-walls. "I thought you might find this interesting. Ever since the Doppelganger Storm, I've been doing loads of research into sandstorms – in line with the Strexcorp scientific model, of _course_ –"

"Of course!"

"– in an attempt to work out just what happened that day. I mean, we get plenty of sandstorms, but we've never had one quite like _that_ before."

Kevin sits on the edge of Ted's desk, looking over at the wall of maps and idly swinging his legs a little. "So what have you found out?"

"Well… nothing concrete, not yet," Ted admits. "But every time there's an _official_ sandstorm – rather than one of those strange, natural ones – my climatology equipment detects the _weirdest_ readings, way out in the desert, to the north."

"What, you mean… from Night Vale?" Kevin asks, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"No, not quite that far," Ted tells him. "It's in the open desert between the two towns. Always in the same place, though. And every time there's a storm, the readings get stronger, except…"

"Except?" Kevin prompts.

"Except the day of the Doppelganger Storm. That day… the readings went off the charts and then vanished altogether."

Kevin stares. "Do you know why?"

"Not a clue!" Ted says, brightly. "But there's definitely something going on!"

"There really is," Kevin agrees. "So… you think something might happen tonight?"

"I don't know," Ted replies. "I'm going to be monitoring it very closely, though. I stocked up my meteorology shack on the roof and I'm going to spend the night in there. See what happens." He grins. "You want to join me? I'm ordering pizza."

"They deliver to a shack on the roof of a community radio building?"

"They do when I tell 'em I'm on Strexcorp's books!"

Kevin beams. "Now _that's_ efficiency!"

"So go on then," Ted pushes, "are you coming to join in with Sandstorm Watch?"

"Sure, why not? I don't have any other plans for tonight and I could do a piece on it for tomorrow's show. And if we all get inexplicable doubles again, maybe you and yours will be able to work out why I don't have one."

Well. Not a proper one.

***

It's late.

The sandstorm rages over Desert Bluffs in general, and around Ted the Weatherman's meteorology shack in particular. Said shack – built up on the roof of the community radio station – is actually a fairly advanced weather-monitoring station, filled with all sorts of complex equipment that Kevin can't fathom the use for, but is sure must be _very_ interesting.

They do indeed order pizza. The delivery guy just stares at them in sand-battered shock when they open the door, though seems to perk up a bit when Ted gives him a generous tip.

So there's pizza, and a couple of beers (much as Kevin is far more of a wine man, it really isn't the sort of thing you drink in a meteorology shack during a sandstorm) and before long Kevin is sprawled back on the shack's small couch, watching Ted work.

"Answer me something," he says, as a thought occurs.

"Hm?" Ted prompts, looking back at him.

"Climatology's the study of climates, yes?"

"Yes."

"Uh-huh. So why isn't meteorology the study of meteors?"

Ted gives a little shrug. "Because the English language is weird."

"Sweetly quirky, though," Kevin replies.

"You _would_ say that. How many languages do you speak?"

"Five. English, Spanish, Unmodified Sumerian, Linear-B and Russian. Also some Latin but I wouldn't quite class myself as _fluent_. I mean, you need it for some rituals and I know enough to get by, but I mostly tend to go for the older texts and they pre-date it."

Ted whistles through his teeth. "That's pretty darned impressive."

"It's a hobby," Kevin says, off-hand. "Linear-B is my favourite. It's so… pointy."

Having finished whatever he's been setting up, Ted drops down onto the couch next to Kevin.

" _Anyway_ ," Kevin goes on, "I thought you said sandstorms were caused by God?"

Ted looks sideways at him. "That's… something of a sideways step in the conversation," he points out.

Kevin shrugs. "It's how my mind works."

"Well, you're right, I did. And they are. God, working through powerful, multi-national conglomerates with access to a vast range of resources. Like… Strexcorp! But there's still a meteorological element to it. I mean, belief in God doesn't rule out science. It just makes things more interesting!"

"It's so true," Kevin agrees. "And I must say, it's refreshing to talk to someone who can combine the two."

"That's why Strexcorp likes me!" Ted tells him, brightly.

Something on one of his instrument panels beeps, and he scrambles up, stares at it, hits it with a small mallet, and then sits back down again.

"Does that help?" Kevin can't help asking.

"Sure it helps!" Ted assures him. "Totally very scientific. And climatological. Honest."

"I see… They taught you that at college, then?"

"Yep. I learned loads. It was quite an eye-opening experience, although more for the extra-curricular stuff than anything else."

"Like what?" Kevin pushes, with a grin.

"Well, I learned how to brew beer that's more than fifty-percent proof."

Kevin looks suspiciously at the bottle he's been drinking from.

"No, no, this is the normal stuff," Ted reassures him. "But this guy I knew, he taught me how to make beer so strong, it was like drinking rocket fuel. Actually there was this other guy who used to do that – like, _actually_ drink rocket fuel – but it wasn't good for him and eventually the admissions board had to intervene." He grins. "College really was the weirdest place."

"Sounds like fun, though."

"Oh, it was!"

There's an odd little pause.

"How is your wife, anyway?" Kevin now asks.

Ted blinks at him again. "Seriously, man, the conversation-shifts…"

"I'm surprised you're not used to it by now."

"So am I! And Sophie's fine. She just got promoted to Chief Accounts Manager at Hemble and Proctorfield."

"Strexcorp's favourite legal subsidiary? Oh, congrats!" Kevin exclaims.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Ted replies. "She's totally the smart one. I'm hoping the kids take after her."

"How are little Ben and Richie?"

"Already way smarter than me! And completely taking advantage of being identical twins. I tell you, those two are going to be a _menace_ when they hit puberty."

"They're, what, seven now?"

"Yep. And already getting As in Transmigration Studies."

"Oh, you must be so proud!"

"We really are," Ted beams. "Don't fancy having any yourself?"

"Nah, I mean… I like kids, but I prefer the kind you can give back after a couple of hours. I would have been great as an uncle but, you know, only child and all. Plus I'm still waiting for the right man to come along and…"

His face falls just ever so slightly. Ted claps him on the arm. "I'm sure he will soon. Awesome, smart guy like you? No way can you stay single forever."

"Awww, thanks!" Kevin exclaims, brighter again.

Something else beeps on the instrument panel. Ted leaps up once more, picks up his mallet, and is about to hit it when he stops, glances between the dials and the mapping readout, and turns.

"OK, this? This is weird. Come look."

Kevin scrambles to his feet and steps closer. As he does, Ted taps one of the dials again.

"What is it?"

"See these readings?" Ted says, tapping away. "See how they're bouncing back and forth like that? Totally never happened before. Even during the Doppelganger Storm."

"Huh. So what does it mean?"

"Beats me! I'm going to have to gather some more data and run the numbers."

"It sounds very complicated."

"Nah. Mostly it involves string and post-it notes."

"I see. What _could_ it mean?"

Ted shrugs. "Several things. My equipment might be malfunctioning. The Strex R&D people could be doing more of those weird tests they sometimes run out in the sand wastes. Or…"

"Or?" Kevin prompts, intrigued.

"Or… there could be a massive rupture forming in spacetime."

Kevin stares. "…And you can tell all that using weather-forecasting equipment?"

"With _this_ weather-forecasting equipment I can. We get some very interesting weather round here, don't forget."

"Very true. Should we be worried?"

"Probably not," Ted replies, easily. "Contrary to popular belief, most massive ruptures in spacetime close of their own accord with only minor effect, so we should be fine… unless you happen to have some fundamental connection _to_ the fabric of spacetime that transcends normal human existence. Then it might be an issue."

"Not that I know of," Kevin says, with a grin.

"Well, then. Nothing to worry about!"

And Ted is a climatologist, so he must be right.

***

The next day dawns bright and clear. The sandstorm is long past, and the air is fresh and pleasant.

Kevin has plenty to talk about during his show. He puts together an editorial on weather forecasting and the relevance of sandstorms to twenty-first century sociological development, runs it past the Strexcorp public relations attaché (just in case) and opens with it as his headline feature.

Later in the day, just as he clicks over to the actual weather report, there's a wave at the window to the booth. It's Ted, beaming, and Kevin gestures him in.

"Hey," Ted says. "Loved the editorial. I'll let you know when I'm done with the data because you might be able to do a follow-up soon."

"Ooh, looking forward to it!" Kevin replies.

"Any plans for tonight?" Ted asks.

"Nah. Quiet evening in. Might catch up on some reading. I think I've had quite enough excitement for one week. You?"

"Oh, nothing much. I might swing by and see one of my guys in the scientific community. He's good with this spacetime stuff and he might be able to help me with my analysis."

"Well, enjoy! Can't wait to see what you come up with."

***

There's nothing wrong with quiet evenings in, though. Nothing at all.

With his broadcast done for the day, Kevin heads home. Desert Bluffs glows and glistens in the light of the setting sun, seeming even _redder_ than usual, and he smiles to himself as he walks back to his apartment.

Once he's home, he fixes himself something to eat, and settles down with his copy of _'The Translation of Linear-B and its Effects on the Summoning of Pan-Dimensional Entities,'_ which he's about halfway through and which is just _so_ interesting.

Before he even knows it, the clock is chiming twelve, and he realises he should probably go to bed before the urge to do a little _actual_ summoning overtakes and he ends up pulling another all-nighter. Because they leave him feeling… weird. And not just because of the lack of sleep.

So, with an accepting little sigh, he goes off to get ready for bed.

***

There are no uncovered mirrors in his apartment. It's… just the way Kevin has always been. The way he's always… chosen to live.

He doesn't question it. It was his mother's idea, and mothers know best.

But as he lies down to sleep, he catches his reflection – just for a second – in the polished surface of the nightstand, as he reaches to turn off the light.

Odd. For an instant, he could almost have thought that…

…no. No.

Kevin pays it no more mind, and curls up to sleep in the welcome blackness.

***

Cecil wakes up in the middle of the night, and the second he does – the _instant_ – he knows something is terribly, terribly wrong.

He blinks, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, but even before he can see where he is, he knows it isn't where he _was_. He's in a room – a bedroom – of some kind, but he doesn't recognise it, and the décor is certainly not anything he would ever go for.

And he's alone. That's perhaps the scariest thing of all. He sits bolt upright, staring at the other side of the bed, but Carlos isn't there.

The terror sets in, a crushing vice against his chest, and he scrambles out of bed at once, looking around desperately for some clue as to what's happened, to where he is. To where his _Carlos_ is.

There's a rumble from outside, and – hoping it might lead to some answers – Cecil goes over to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains and nearly falling over in shock at what he sees.

Beyond the glass is a view out over a city, though it certainly isn't his Night Vale. It's dark, but there seems to be some kind of storm overhead: not a sandstorm, but a thunderstorm, and vicious bolts of deep-red lightning lance across the sky every few seconds. It's raining, too, but it doesn't take long for Cecil to realise the rain isn't water.

It's blood.

He feels like his heart is going to stop from shock. Feels like it might be a mercy if it did. The place he's looking out at is nothing less than Hell, and anything – _anything_ – would surely be better than here.

Where is he? How did he get to this _awful_ place… and how does he get _out_ of it?

But before he can do anything else, the strangest wave of dizziness overtakes, and Cecil feels himself lose his footing… and he doesn't even remember hitting the floor.

***

Kevin wakes up in the middle of the night, and the second he does – the _instant_ – he knows something very, very weird is going on.

He blinks, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, but before he can see where he is, he knows it isn't where he _was_. He's in a room – a bedroom – of some kind, but he doesn't recognise it, and the décor is… wow, OK, rather retro.

And he's not alone. That's perhaps the weirdest thing of all. He sits quickly but quietly upright, staring at the other side of the bed in amazement.

The shock sets in, along with a spiral of sensation in his stomach that he's sure is nerves, and he scrambles out of bed at once, still staring at the other person – the other _man_ – in the room. He's asleep, breathing softly, bedsheets only pulled up as far as his waist, and he is quite simply the most perfectly beautiful man Kevin has ever laid eyes on.

Through the stunned surprise, Kevin now realises that there's no sound coming from outside. One of Desert Bluffs' regular night storms had been rolling in as he went to bed, but he can't hear it now. He goes over to the window, peering through a gap in the light curtains and nearly falling over in shock at what he sees.

Beyond the glass is a view out over a city, though it certainly isn't his Desert Bluffs. It's dark, and the sky overhead is clear, dotted with a swathe of glittering stars and lit by the bright, full moon.

Where is he? How did he get to this odd place… and for what purpose?

And… who is the beautiful man still sleeping softly behind him?

But before he can start wondering if he should wake the man up to ask him, the strangest wave of dizziness overtakes, and Kevin feels himself lose his footing… and he doesn't even remember hitting the floor.

***

Cecil wakes up on the carpet, curled into a ball close to the window. He's barely had time to start moving when he hears a cry from behind him.

"Cecil?!"

It's Carlos. It's Carlos, and Cecil knows at once that he's back in his boyfriend's apartment, albeit… apparently lying on the floor, and…

…merciful powers, what is going on?

"Cecil!" Carlos calls again, scrambling out of bed and dropping down beside him all at once. "Are you all right?"

Carlos pulls him into a sitting position and wraps both arms around him, holding on tight. "What happened?" Cecil asks. "Did I..? I think… I think I was dreaming, but… Carlos, was I sleepwalking?"

"I don't know," his boyfriend replies, not letting go in the slightest. "I woke up because I heard something, which I think was you hitting the floor, and there you were! Do you remember what happened?"

The memories hit at that: a wave of hazy images, and Cecil instinctively curls in tighter. "…I was dreaming," he says. "I dreamt… I dreamt I woke up somewhere else. I was alone, and it was night, and… when I looked outside it was raining _blood_ and there was all this red lightning, and… Carlos, it was _awful_."

"How long did it last?" Carlos asks him, which is… not the question Cecil expected, but Carlos is a scientist and sometimes he thinks in strange ways.

"Uh… maybe a couple of minutes at most?" he answers. "Which was more than long enough, believe me. It…" He rubs a hand over his eyes. "…It felt so real. Like, even more real than the dream everyone has on October 20th every year, where we all see the moon reflected in even the smallest amounts of water."

He wraps both arms around Carlos and holds on for a moment, just taking comfort in the contact.

"Come back to bed," Carlos whispers.

It sounds like an even more wonderful idea than usual. They clamber upright, and Cecil is about to turn to the bed when an urge overtakes… and he pulls back the curtain to look at the world beyond.

Night Vale. His Night Vale; bathed in moonlight and crowned with a void full of stars.

_Such_ a relief.

Cecil gently tugs the curtains closed and slips back into bed, curling up in Carlos' arms.

He's safe. He's home.

But the memories of the dream will not fade.

***

Kevin wakes up on the carpet, curled into a ball close to the window.

The shock sets in all at once, and Kevin knows he's back in his own apartment, albeit… apparently lying on the floor, and…

…in the name of all the nameless gods, what is going on?

He pulls himself into a sitting position, rubbing a hand over his head and trying to work out what's just happened. Was he dreaming? Did he just dream of some other place, far away, or…?

But it was more than a dream, wasn't it? From the looks of things he's been sleepwalking too, and that's a new one, even for him.

And… oh. _Oh_. Who was the man he dreamt of? The beautiful man he woke up next to. Is he even real? Or… was it a dream of some perfect other life that's passed him by?

…This is just so weird.

Slowly, he clambers to his feet, and at once catches the view out of the window – where the curtains have somehow been pulled back – and he pauses for a moment, looking at the world beyond.

Desert Bluffs. His Desert Bluffs; bathed in red lightning and drenched in vibrant bloodrain.

_Such_ a relief.

Kevin gently tugs the curtains closed and paces back to bed, slipping under the covers.

He's safe. He's home.

But the memories of the dream will not fade.


	2. Unfulfilled

The next day dawns bright and clear, and Cecil is glad to see it. And although the memories of that awful dream won't leave him altogether, they seem somehow lessened in the welcome glow of morning.

By the early afternoon, he's more than distracted enough by work, and by regular texts from Carlos, who – despite having something extremely complicated and urgent to do – seems to be stopping every five minutes to check up on him.

But it's endearing, so Cecil doesn't mind.

Just as he goes to the weather, his phone buzzes again, and Cecil picks it up, expecting it to be another message from his lovely boyfriend… but it isn't.

It's from an unknown sender – a blocked number – and contains nothing but a set of coordinates and the words _'midnight tonight'_ in ominous block capitals.

Cecil stares at it for a moment. Something very, very weird is going on and it's getting harder and harder to ignore, even though he has no idea how it's all connected.

And now… this.

Intrigued… no, not just intrigued, _alarmed_ … Cecil copies the coordinates and looks them up on Google Maps… and they point to a place out in the desert, to the south of Night Vale.

But why? Why would some unknown person send him a message telling him to go to a place out in the middle of nowhere at midnight?

It makes no sense. No sense at all.

And he's not exactly going to go running off into the desert in the dark. Not when he doesn't know why he's going in the first place.

But… if he went… he could find out, and…

…no. No. That just wouldn't be sensible. Wouldn't be sensible at all.

***

"…It said _what_?" Carlos exclaims in shock.

"Just _'midnight tonight'_ in all-caps, and a set of coordinates. I looked them up, and it's some place out in the middle of the desert, to the south."

"And you have no idea who sent it?"

"None at all. The number was blocked. But… Carlos… just what is going on? First another sandstorm, then that weird dream, and now a mysterious text?" Cecil pauses for a second. "Do you think it could be the vague-yet-menacing government agency?"

"Let's hope not," Carlos replies. "Those guys are just not helpful."

The two of them are back at Carlos' place, sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee each. They've been pondering what to do for dinner, but the mention of Cecil's weird text message has distracted them somewhat.

"You think I should do what it says?" Cecil asks, and he's not sure whether he wants Carlos to talk him out of it or talk him into it.

Carlos looks worried. "I think you should stay as far away as possible," he replies, with a little edge to his tone that suggests this is much more than just his usual caution talking. "Whoever sent that message… they don't want you to know who they are, but they do apparently want to lure you out into the desert in the middle of the night. And beyond the city limits… Cecil, even the Secret Police won't know what's going on way out there."

"I know," Cecil says, and he does. "And I know it would be foolish to even consider going, but… I want to work out what all this means. I can't help it."

"I know," Carlos echoes, reaching to grip his hand. "I just… I don't think it would be a good idea. I really, really don't."

"You're right, of course," Cecil says. Logically, he knows that it would be a bad idea. But illogically…

And it's more than that, he's sure of it. This isn't just curiosity, or a journalist's innate need for answers. Something is _drawing_ him to that place, like a moth to a candle flame, and…

No. No. Just don't think about it. Just remember how insane it would be and don't think about it.

So he doesn't. Not consciously. Not for the rest of the evening. Not until he glances up and sees that it's almost half-eleven… and the thoughts set in again…

"…It's nearly half-eleven," he points out.

"So it is," Carlos agrees. "Or whatever passes for half-eleven in Night Vale. Is that you wanting to go to bed? Or… oh. You're thinking about the text again, aren't you?"

"I can't help it," Cecil replies, guiltily. "I've tried to ignore it all evening, but… I just can't get it out of my head. I need to know, Carlos. I need to know."

"…All right," Carlos says, looking worried. "All right. If it means this much to you… we should go and find out what it's all about. Just… be prepared for it to be some weird hoax or something…"

He sounds almost hopeful, and for a scientist like Carlos… that's not normal at all.

***

The sky is awash with stars as Cecil drives out along Route 800, heading south, with Carlos in the passenger seat next to him. The breeze has really picked up, and there's quite a lot of sand in it, and… that's a little more triggery than Cecil would like, all things being considered.

But at least he isn't alone.

Following the directions on his satnav, he eventually turns off the main road and starts driving along a dirt track, out into the desert, further and further until even the track itself has all but vanished, and he's just travelling over the open scrublands.

The wind howls up all the more, and Cecil can _feel_ how much Carlos is worrying, even though the other man has been quiet for a while.

And then… they get to where they're going. To the coordinates from the mysterious text. Glancing over at Carlos – and getting another worried look in return – Cecil parks the car and sits, staring out into the darkness, and at the small section of ground illuminated by the car's headlights.

"The wind's getting really bad," Carlos remarks. "We… might want to be careful if we're going out there."

"I know," Cecil replies. "I… have to take a look around, but it's all right if you want to stay sheltered in here."

"And leave you wandering about on your own out there? Not a chance."

Carlos grips his hand for a moment and then they both climb from the car, looking ahead into the darkness.

And that's when Cecil feels it, like a vice around his heart… but around his mind as well. Like… if he doesn't work out what's going on, if he doesn't work out the truth, it will be the end of him.

He has to know. He _has_ to know.

He's vaguely aware that he's starting to walk out into the darkness, vaguely aware of Carlos calling his name, of footsteps following him, but all Cecil processes is the need for answers and the rough touch of the wind and sand against his skin.

He has to know. _He has to know_.

He walks up a low ridge, watching his footing on the rougher ground, and looking on through the darkness whenever he can. And then, up ahead… he sees another car: a car the exact same make and model as his own, but in black, and – standing several paces in front of it – a single figure.

They walk towards each other; Cecil and the unknown person, across the desert sands until they're close enough to see each other's faces.

And that's when Cecil sees. When he understands. When the confusion and the concern and the need for answers all snap at once like a whipcrack, and leave him staring at the one person in all the world he never wanted to see again.

Himself. Only… not himself.

"…Kevin?" he whispers.

"…Cecil?" his double says.

And then the darkness hits in little more than seconds: a wave of darkness inside that sweeps through him all at once, and Cecil barely has a chance to register the matching confusion in his doppelganger's eyes before unconsciousness overtakes.

Once again… he doesn't even remember hitting the floor.

***

Carlos stands on the low ridge, staring over and down at the two unconscious men in shock.

Well. A little shock. Mostly… guilt.

He lowers the device in his hand, slipping it into his pocket. Wishing it hadn't come to this. Because, however things have been… it was better than the alternatives.

'Guilt' doesn't really begin to cover it. How is he going to explain all this to Cecil?

Although… perhaps what has to come first will be worse.

Carlos stands and watches the two unconscious men until, with little more than a slight flicker and a shift in reality… Cecil disappears.

Oh, he's going to need string to explain this. A lot of string.

Assuming Kevin doesn't just kill him first.

***

Kevin comes to with a jump. He's lying on the rough, desert sands, surrounded by the dark of night, and it's… unsettling. Did he pass out? Did he..?

Oh… wait. Wait. Cecil! Cecil was here. But… how? And where..? And…

He staggers to his feet, brushing himself down and looking around. There's no sign of his double – nothing but the footprints in the sand, slowly being covered by the wind – and he's alone out…

…wait. No. Not alone. There's another figure, standing on the low ridge that Cecil came over, moments earlier.

"Hello?" Kevin calls, wondering if the mysterious and apparently lab-coated figure might know what's going on.

The figure rubs a hand over its eyes. "Hello, Kevin," comes the answer.

Now even more intrigued, Kevin walks closer, and he's sure the unknown man backs off a little – as if instinctively – as he does.

And as he gets closer… Kevin suddenly realises who the other man is. "You!" he exclaims, not sure whether to be delighted or confused and deciding a mixture of the two would be most appropriate, given that he's now staring at the beautiful, perfect man he saw in his dream the previous night. "You're _real_!"

"Yes," the other man says, in something like resignation. "Yes, I'm real."

"But… I saw you in a dream!"

"That wasn't a dream. It was an accident. I so hoped you wouldn't remember it…"

"Remember?" Kevin repeats. "You… Just what is going on? And who exactly are you?"

"My name is Carlos," the other man tells him. "I'm a scientist."

"Are you from Night Vale?"

"Yes. Well, not originally, but I live there now. Look. I can explain a fair bit of what's going on, but I don't think we should linger out here. You'd…" He pauses, looking reluctant. "You'd better come with me."

"To Night Vale?"

"Yes. Because there is no way I am going back to Desert Bluffs with you."

"Awww, but it's so lovely there! I'm sure you'd like it."

Carlos folds his arms, and there's a distinct defensive edge to the movement that's deliciously endearing. "Kevin. There was _bloodrain_ there last night."

"Yes, yes there was, and… how do you even know about that?"

"I told you, I can explain a fair bit of what's going on. Now, are you coming back to Night Vale with me or not?"

"Right now I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked," Kevin replies, clapping a hand over his heart. "You are quite literally the most perfect man I have ever seen in my life."

Carlos facepalms. "Oh, I can see this is going to be a fun night…"

***

It's certainly a fun drive… in the universe where 'fun' means 'weird and awkward and vaguely threatening.' Carlos manages to persuade Kevin to leave his car ("You're bringing me back for it, right?") and come with him in Cecil's car, which is not because he wants to be around Kevin any more than necessary, but because he doesn't quite dare let the man out of his sight.

Not now. Not when he's also… oh, don't think about it.

Kevin is quiet as they travel, which is unsettling in its own right. He spends half his time staring out the window as they draw closer to Night Vale and start moving through the town, and the other half staring at Carlos with a worryingly drawn look in his dark eyes.

Carlos has no choice but to return to his apartment. He parks Cecil's car outside – next to his own – and gestures to the door.

"Come on," he says. "And don't touch anything."

"Don't you worry," Kevin tells him, alarmingly brightly. "All of my concentration is going into keeping my hands off you. Nothing else is going to catch my attention."

"…Oh, you really are as bad as I worried…" Carlos murmurs, but thankfully Kevin doesn't notice.

They head inside. Everything looks so normal, and it's hard to remember that he and Cecil were here little more than an hour ago.

"This is your place?" Kevin asks.

"Yeah," Carlos replies. "This is my place." He waves at one of the couches. "Have a seat and I'll… try to explain some of this."

Thankfully Kevin does as he's told (which Carlos very much suspects is not going to last) and Carlos settles on the couch opposite him, maintaining a safe distance.

"All right," Kevin says, pleasantly. "Maybe you should start by telling me who you are."

"I already did that," Carlos points out. "I'm Carlos. I'm a scientist."

"But there's more to it, isn't there?"

"In what sense?"

Kevin leans forward a little, smile getting brighter. "You're Cecil's boyfriend, aren't you?"

No sense in denying it. Even though it's going to make things so much worse when Kevin finds out what's going on and follows the logic through. "Yes. Yes, I am. For a few months now, and… I love that man an insane amount so believe me when I tell you that if you do anything to hurt him, so help me I will _end_ you…"

Kevin stares. He looks as though his brain is breaking a little – in a way he apparently likes a great deal – and Carlos realises he may have just inadvertently made things worse.

"Carlos, Carlos, relax, I'm not going to do anything," the other man points out, in a mostly-placatory tone. "Cecil isn't even here."

Which is both right and wrong at the same time, and it hurts to think it.

"You and Cecil… you know you're his double."

"Well, technically he's _my_ double…"

 _Keep it together, Carlos, keep it together…_ "…Whatever. Semantics. Well. Everyone in Night Vale – OK, pretty much everyone – has a double over in your place. Desert Bluffs. You know that, right?"

"Yes, I know that," Kevin answers. "After the Doppelganger Storm… it pretty much became common knowledge. I don't think Strexcorp were very pleased about the news getting out, but they just utilised their trademark goodwill and community spirit and made sure it didn't become an issue."

"…Right. So. You're Cecil's double. And he's your double. Only, the relationship between the two of you isn't like the relationship between all the other pairs of doubles."

"It isn't?" Kevin says, looking a little surprised.

"No, it isn't," Carlos replies. "All the other pairs of doubles are just that… two identical people living two similar lives in the two very much _dissimilar_ towns. But you and Cecil… you're the same person."

Kevin stares. "The same person?"

"Yes. The exact same person. Technically-speaking, Kevin… you _aren't_ Cecil's double at all. Cecil doesn't _have_ a double."

"…Wait, _what_? Then what am I?"

"You're his alternate personality."

Kevin stares some more. He tries to say something and – amazingly – seems unable to get the words out.

"Yeah," Carlos says, trying to be understanding. "Tell me about it."

"So…" Kevin finally manages. "So we're… what? We only have one body?"

"Yes." _Please don't follow it through to its logical conclusion right now…_

"…But… what? We're both living separate lives in separate places… so how is that even possible?"

"Kevin, in all honesty, you don't want to know, but in the interests of not ending up horribly cursed, I will tell you."

"Awww, Carlos, I'm not going to curse you!" Kevin insists, pouting a little.

Carlos narrows his eyes. "I've read the dossiers on you. You summon demons for fun."

"Only once or twice a week!" Kevin protests. "The rest of the time it's for work reasons!"

"I don't want to know," Carlos says. "Just don't tell me. Just… listen, OK? I need to get this over and done with so I can work out how utterly doomed I am."

Something about this makes Kevin behave – for the moment – and he merely waits for Carlos to continue. It's still a very small mercy in comparison.

"All right," Carlos goes on, taking a deep breath. "When Cecil was fifteen years old, he was attacked by a very rare supernatural entity known as a _neizvestnoye_. I hope I'm pronouncing that right…"

" _Unknown_ ," Kevin translates at once, without even blinking, and then shrugs when Carlos looks at him in surprise. "I speak Russian," he explains. " _'Neizvestnoye'_. It's the noun-form of _'unknown'_."

 _And you pronounce it beautifully…_ Oh, don't think about it, don't think about it…

"Well…" Carlos continues, trying to focus, "this thing, this… _neizvestnoye_ … has only ever been described once before by science: by a group of Russians, hence the Russian name, way back in 1883. I'm not an expert, but it's some kind of pan-dimensional creature that travels using mirrors. One of them took an interest in Cecil when he was fifteen and attacked him. We don't fully understand what it did because he is literally the second known person in recorded history to have been the victim of one of these attacks, but the result was that it created an alternate personality in his head. You."

Kevin stares. "Me?!" he exclaims. "But… that's impossible! I remember my childhood! I remember growing up in Desert Bluffs."

"Yes, I know you do," Carlos replies. "Exactly how that is… we're still not sure. It was most likely something the creature did, but we've never been able to prove it. What it certainly _didn't_ do was make you a body. You and Cecil exist within the same mind, and that… that caused problems. You'd flip back and forth without warning – especially if either of you happened to look into a mirror – and it rapidly became untenable."

"Untenable?" Kevin repeats.

"Oh yeah," Carlos tells him. "That's when you learned to summon demons in the first place. To protect yourself. You'd come to in places with no idea of how you got there and after a while it got pretty scary, especially given that you were still only a teenager at the time."

"But… I don't remember any of this."

"Of course you don't. Neither does Cecil. You see… he attracted the attention of operatives from a vague-yet-menacing government agency. Specifically, from one of their scientific divisions, which has a major outpost right here in Night Vale. They found a way – some sort of energy pulse, I think – to regulate the switches in your personality. The trouble was, in order to keep both of you stable, they had to completely erase it all from your memories. All of it, from before Cecil was attacked by that thing in the first place. They made the whole incident just disappear, put Cecil back into his life, and put you into yours."

Kevin stares again. Apparently the best way to make him behave is to completely upturn his worldview with equal parts supernatural mystery and barely-comprehensible science. Though Carlos doubts the effects will last for long.

"…But… I don't have gaps in my life," Kevin points out, finally. "If we were flipping back and forth – even in a controlled manner – wouldn't we… I don't know, lose time or something?"

"Oh yes," Carlos replies. "But, hey, welcome to Night Vale! Time doesn't work here. At all. I still don't know the full reasoning behind it, but I do know that – as a result – it supports rather more messing around with the timeline than should be possible. In most normal places this amount of temporal disturbance would likely have unmade the universe by now, and would certainly have caused enough rifts to rip the planet apart. But here in Night Vale… it causes little more than the odd blip and the occasional massive but wholly undetectable earthquake."

"…Temporal disturbance?" Kevin manages.

"Time travel," Carlos tells him. "It… you know, there really is no way I can explain this to you unless you have a doctorate in quantum physics and a whole heck of a lot of string."

This gets him quite a look. "…I can probably find the string."

"Honestly, this is beyond even what string can explain. Look. What happens is this: Cecil lives a full day. At the end of it, when he goes to sleep, he jumps through both time and space, ending up in Desert Bluffs at the start of the day that's just ended for him, but your personality and consciousness emerge instead. You live your full day, in the same block of time as Cecil is living his, and at the end of it, when you go to sleep, you jump through space and – if necessary – a small amount of time, ending up back where you started, and Cecil's personality and consciousness re-emerge."

Kevin stares even more. He rubs a hand over his eyes, blinks a few times, and resumes staring. "…You're right, this _is_ beyond what string can explain. So… wait… if the whole thing just runs in time-travel-circles or… or whatever you call them… what just happened out in the desert? How were we both there?"

Carlos shakes his head. "The question you should be asking is: why did Cecil vanish? The points at which you flip and jump are so minute that they're nigh-on impossible to see. I've managed to spot them on a couple of occasions but it takes real concentration, because the temporal gap between Cecil disappearing to become you, and reappearing after having been you, is little more than nanoseconds long. So the point at which Cecil vanished out in the desert is the point at which he flipped and went back to begin the day as you, but when you end that day – _this_ day – you should flip and go back to resume at that point as him, waking up in the desert at the same time as yourself, and… have I lost you?"

"A little," Kevin concedes. "So… technically-speaking, Cecil should have woken up after only seconds and been… me from one day in my future, sort of?"

"Yes," Carlos says. "Yes, that, exactly."

"But instead… he vanished. And the most significant point I can draw from this is that _you_ are a lot less worried about it than you should be."

Carlos is going to have to admit it now. He slips his hand into the pocket of his lab coat and pulls out the device he's been carrying round with him. It's about the size of an average mobile phone except thicker, with a few buttons and dials on it but very little else… all of which masks just how unbelievably crucial it is.

"This," he says, holding it up so Kevin can see, "is the control remote for the temporal flips. It has a failsafe; a one-use mechanism that can completely cancel out the spacetime jumps altogether, leaving you as you were before the process was put in place. When you and Cecil met out in the desert… I had no choice but to use it."

"Why?"

"Because you were intersecting with your own timeline. Even Night Vale can't cope with that for more than a few moments. The readings were already starting to go beyond the red and into colours that don't exist in the visible spectrum! So I… used this. It triggered one final jump, making sure that Cecil went back to become you so that both of you _could_ actually be there without forming a paradox, and then broke the link completely. And I know it's drastic – even to save all of spacetime – but I… I had no choice. I turned you back to the way you were before any of this was put in place… one body, two personalities. You'll flip randomly again now. I can't predict it. Sometimes you'll be one personality for hours, other times it might be much more frequent. So that's why I'm not worried about Cecil disappearing, Kevin, because he's right here in front of me. Inside what is currently your head."

"And you… you've known about this all along?" Kevin manages, after a very drawn-out pause.

Carlos gets up and paces a little way off, suddenly not able to look the other man in the eyes.

"Haven't you?" Kevin pushes.

Oh, this isn't easy. Isn't easy at all. Admitting it to Kevin is going to be bad enough but it is nothing – _nothing_ – compared to what it will be like to admit it to Cecil.

"…Yes," Carlos says, softly, still not turning around. "Yes. It's why they sent me here in the first place. Well. Part of why. It's true I came to Night Vale to study it, because it _is_ the most scientifically-fascinating community in the US–"

"Hey!"

"– _joint_ most scientifically-fascinating community in the US, and there's enough going on to keep a scientist like me occupied for several lifetimes. But I also came here for a specific reason: they sent me to watch Cecil. And I tried to keep my distance, I really did. I came up with every excuse I could think of. I managed it for a whole year but the fact was, I fell in love with him almost as fast as he fell in love with me, and in the end… in the end I had a very public near-death experience that may or may not have involved me repeatedly whispering his name whilst I was being carried out of a miniature underground city by a heroic maniac in a ridiculous feather headdress… and I realised I couldn't hide the truth any longer. So I didn't."

"But he doesn't know about all of this, does he?" Kevin asks, after a little pause that's oh-so-telling for very different reasons.

"…No," Carlos manages, finally managing to turn and meet Kevin's eyes again in the hope that it will make his words feel as sincere as he needs them to be. "No. I couldn't tell him. How could you live with knowledge like that? How could you live knowing that you're experiencing each day twice over as two different people, as the result of a Russian mirror-monster and deeply dangerous spacetime travel? And… do you even know how unsettled he was when he found out about you? He _still_ freaks out whenever there's a sandstorm."

"Hey!" Kevin says, again. "I didn't do anything that day!"

"I know you didn't," Carlos replies, trying to be placatory, and because the man does – alas – have a point. "I know."

There's a very difficult silence. Carlos spends it attempting to work out what Kevin is going to say next, in the hopes of being prepared for it, but – unsurprisingly – the man comes out with something wholly unexpected.

"…If you were sent here to watch Cecil, why wasn't someone sent to watch me?" he asks, finally.

"Someone _was_ sent to watch you," Carlos tells him. "They just… managed to keep a lower profile than I did. I would have been fine if I'd stuck to my original plans, but somehow Cecil found out I'd moved to the town and decided to report on it, and then people started asking questions so I called a meeting to give them a simple explanation… only it kinda got blown out of proportion and he reported on _that_ too, and it didn't help that my darned _handlers_ decided to come along and be _ridiculously_ obvious, and…"

"…wait, you have _handlers_?" Kevin interrupts. "So… you don't actually work directly for the government?"

"Goodness, no," Carlos replies. "I'm a scientist! A proper scientist! Not one of those creepy _government_ scientists! But… well, I'm sort of a… freelance contractor. Mostly I do my own research but I'm also doing this on their behalf because… because I am. Partly because they pay ridiculously well, on account of the fact that most scientists refuse to come to Night Vale on the grounds that it's, quote, _'cursed,'_ unquote."

"And this… person who's been watching me?"

"…Colleague of mine," Carlos says, hoping Kevin won't make him elaborate because merciful _Einstein_ , it will make things _so_ much worse if they have to go down _that_ road right now. "He's the reason I got involved with the scientific division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency in the first place."

There's another very difficult silence.

"So… what happens now?" Kevin asks. He's got flickers of that oh-so-drawn look in his eyes again and it instinctively makes Carlos want to run far, far away.

"Now… that's a very good question," Carlos replies, taking a deep breath and trying _not_ to run far, far away. "For now… there's not a lot we _can_ do. When you and Cecil flip again, I'm going to have to explain all this to _him_ , which will probably result in it being literally the worst conversation of my life, and then I'm going to have to find some way to come up with a permanent solution to this whole mess."

"Can't you just… put things back the way they were?"

"Not easily, no. I'm not an expert on the science of all this because they won't let me see all the schematics, but when I severed the spacetime link earlier tonight… that was a one-off. To re-establish it, we'd have to go out to their facility, out in the desert, and I don't think that would be a good idea. I've been detecting some _very_ strange energy readings from over there for months now – readings that get worse whenever there's a sandstorm – and though I can't prove any of it, I think those guys might be involved in the whole alternate-doubles thing as well… and if truth be told I'm more than a little scared. So for now… we should keep a low profile. A _very_ low profile."

Kevin looks equal parts hopeful and wicked. Carlos just facepalms.

"Kevin, that was _not_ a come-on!" he exclaims.

"You can't blame a man for trying," Kevin replies. "Besides, given everything you've just told me, you should be glad I'm not curled in a ball and rocking backwards and forwards! Because, if I'm being honest, part of me thinks I ought to be!"

"Well, don't," Carlos says. "I need to focus. I also need to sleep… it is far too late for this kind of thing."

"You're honestly suggesting we go to bed?"

"I am honestly suggesting we go to _sleep_. And the places in which we go to sleep will be _separate_."

Kevin pouts. "Really? But if Cecil and I share one body, doesn't that mean you've–"

"– _Yes_ , Kevin, it _does_ mean that," Carlos interrupts, because of _course_ the man ended up down that line of thought eventually. "And I _highly_ recommend you don't mention it again because I am already having a really, _really_ bad night as it is."

"…Even if I promise not to snuggle?"

" _Kevin_!"

"…Oh, fine."

***

In the end, Kevin consents to sleep on the couch, and eventually Carlos is able to go off to his own bed. He curls up to sleep too, but he can't stop thinking about what's going to happen when Cecil and Kevin flip again. When… he has to tell his boyfriend the truth.

His boyfriend. His decent, wonderful, caring boyfriend. Who he's been lying to for months.

His heart aches at the thought, and at the fact he's in bed on his own. He'd been single for ages before he and Cecil got together, but now that he's _not_ single, he can hardly process the idea of being alone again.

He hopes it won't come to that. Hopes he can somehow fix this. But… but. The possibility is still there.

And, deep down, he worries he deserves it.

And then… then there's Kevin. Kevin, the man from insane, blood-drenched Desert Bluffs. The man who openly admits to summoning demons for both fun _and_ work. The man who manages to remain _alarmingly_ cheery even in the face of everything he's been told tonight, and who can smoothly (and rather enticingly, damn him) hit on a person he's only just met.

A man who looks exactly like Cecil, even if he – somewhat inexplicably – doesn't sound anything like him.

And Carlos sort of wants to hit him around the head a little, just for how damnably brazen he is. Except… in his own way… Cecil was exactly the same in the beginning. Adorably, almost innocently so… and though there's nothing innocent about Kevin, they're more alike than Carlos wants to admit.

He lies awake for hours, mind a storm of thoughts that will not die down, until finally he gets up and paces softly out into the living room again, curling up on the other couch and staring over at Kevin, watching him sleep.

And eventually, eventually, unconsciousness overtakes, and he drifts off at last.


	3. The Doppelganger Effect

When Carlos finally awakens, it is to warm sunlight streaming in through a gap in the living room blinds, and a subtle but instinctive sense that he's being watched. He sits upright at once and, sure enough, there on the other couch is… probably Kevin… sitting cross-legged with a book on his knee.

"Good morning, sunshine," the other man – definitely Kevin – says, brightly. "Sleep OK?"

Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes. "No," he answers. "Not in the slightest."

Kevin gives him an arched look. "Is that because you spent half the night watching _me_ sleep?" he asks.

"No, Kevin, it is not," Carlos protests, but the guilty edge to his tone gives him away, and he knows it. "I was merely… concerned, and wanted to keep an eye on you, because you have my boyfriend stuck in your mind somewhere."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Yes, Kevin, it is the only reason."

Kevin doesn't look convinced. Possibly this is because Carlos is not being very convincing.

"…What are you reading, anyway?"

Kevin lifts the book up so Carlos can see the front. _'The Doppler Effect: Why Red is Red,'_ it states.

Carlos stares. Kevin gives a little shrug. "What?" he says. "I'm not an idiot, you know."

"…You understand it?"

Kevin shrugs again. "Enough of it to get by. The parts that don't need a doctorate in quantum physics, at least." And oh, but there's a sneaky little smile on his lips at that.

"…You don't need a doctorate in quantum physics to understand the Doppler Effect," Carlos points out.

"Nope. But I think having one in regular physics would help."

"Do you _have_ a doctorate in regular physics?" Carlos now asks, because at this point he's sure nothing will surprise him anymore.

"No. I do, however, have separate degrees in Ancient Linguistics and Parapsychology."

Carlos stares some more. "…You're a lot more complicated than I first expected."

Kevin beams. "Thank you! You're the only man I've ever met who could wake up after being curled into a ball on a couch and still look like a male model."

"…And the magic is broken."

"How do you get your hair to go like that, anyway?"

"…It's just naturally like this."

"No wonder Cecil fell for you the moment he saw you. I know _I_ did."

"…It's time to stop now, Kevin. Otherwise you're not getting any breakfast."

The other man perks up even more. "Oooh, there's breakfast?"

"Only if you stop hitting on me and behave yourself."

Kevin gives him a positively _evil_ little smile and goes back to reading his book.

And, resigned, Carlos shakes his head and goes off in search of bacon.

***

It's a little while after breakfast when the next in a very long line of problems presents itself.

"…They're going to be expecting me at the radio station before long," Kevin points out.

Carlos is sitting at his kitchen table, which is spread with books and notes and more than a little string, trying to make sense of this whole mess. He knows he should be in his lab, but as soon as he goes in there he's confident Kevin will follow him, and that will just make things worse.

"…That's very true," Carlos says. "Cecil as well. Merciful Einstein, trying to keep track of both your lives is complicated. Can you call in sick?"

"I'll have to," Kevin replies. "I haven't done that in _years_ … not since the infamous Strexcorp Summer Solstice party of 2006."

"…You called in sick with a hangover?"

"I called in sick with a hangover, four arms, three eyes, and an inability to speak anything except Ancient Celtic. It took them nearly a week to fix me, though sadly I lost the ability to speak Ancient Celtic, because that would have been a good one to add to my repertoire. I can, however, still remember how to say _'Behold, I am the Ravager of Days and the First Bloodborn of the Nine Shattered Stars'_."

Carlos stares. 'You're a very strange man and I don't even want to _know_ how the spacetime flips handled all that,' he tries to remark, but what comes out is, instead, "…Go on, then."

So Kevin does. And it's a good thing Carlos is sitting down at the time because he worries he might otherwise have fallen over.

_Think about science, think about science, think about science…_

"…That's very impressive," he manages.

Kevin beams.

"So… yes… right… you call in sick for you, and I'll call in sick for Cecil, and… we'll just have to hope that no one is paying enough attention to connect the two and start asking questions."

Although if those questions led to answers, Carlos thinks he'd almost be in favour right now.

***

It's mid-afternoon when the inevitable finally happens. Thankfully, Kevin is sitting on the couch at the time, which means that when he suddenly keels over without warning, he at least doesn't have far to fall.

Carlos leaps up at once, realising what's going on, and is at the other man's side by the time he starts to blink his eyes open again.

"…Carlos?" Cecil whispers, clearly in some kind of shock. "Carlos… where..? I mean, how..?"

"It's all right, it's all right," Carlos reassures him at once, helping him to sit up and then curling in beside him, wrapping both arms around his boyfriend in relief. He knows that relief isn't going to last, though, which makes him all the more desperate to claim even a second of it before the inevitable sets in.

"…What happened?" Cecil asks, pulling back after a very long moment to look him in the eyes. "The last thing I remember… we were out in the desert, and I… I saw… _masters of us all_ … Carlos, I saw Kevin!"

"I know," Carlos tells him, feeling that vice of guilt around his heart again. "I know. Cecil… Cecil, there's some things I need to tell you. Some things I should have told you a long time ago, but… I couldn't… I just couldn't, I…"

"Carlos," Cecil interrupts, taking his hands and holding on tight. "Whatever you have to tell me, it will be all right."

"…It won't…" Carlos whispers. "But… just listen, OK?"

And he starts to talk. Explaining it to Cecil is easier than explaining it to Kevin from a technical perspective – in that Cecil doesn't interrupt every five seconds to hit on him – but harder in that the guilt is simply… overwhelming. And, what's worse, Cecil just listens. He listens to every word, and the reactions are all there in his eyes, but he doesn't say a thing until Carlos gets to the wretched end of it and falls silent.

"…I… so… that cassette tape I found..?" is what Cecil finally manages to ask.

"Yeah," Carlos replies. "I nearly had a fit when I found out you were playing it on air, but I was down in the seismic monitoring station at the time so I wasn't listening live. But when I played back the show on my drive home… Cecil, I nearly ended up wrapping my car around a stop-sign in shock."

"So the thing that attacked me… the… _neizvestnoye_? That was the flickering thing my fifteen-year-old self was talking about?"

Carlos nods. "Yes. From what we can tell… it can sometimes stalk its prey for days before attacking."

Cecil shudders, which makes Carlos grip his hand tightly.

"And… but… if the spacetime flips got established pretty early on, then… what about when I went backpacking round Europe?"

"Kevin went backpacking round Europe too. They managed to stop your itineraries clashing so you'd be in different countries at all times, to prevent you accidentally running into each other and forming a paradox, or… or finding out what was really going on, but… it did go a bit wrong at one point…"

Oh, yes, the thing about Svitz. At least Carlos was spared from having to explain this part to Kevin, because Kevin had had other things on his mind at the time and didn't think to ask.

"…A bit wrong?" Cecil manages to repeat. If he looked like he was in shock before, it's nothing compared to the way he looks now.

"Yeah. You… uh… you remember Svitz?"

"To some extent. It was a very strange place."

"Well… somehow, you and Kevin ended up there at the same time. The science team lost track of you both, you see… Svitz is apparently awkward like that. From what we can tell, it doesn't always exist. But… well… the two of you were there at the same time, and you met up, and if that had happened anywhere else you would have unmade the universe, but… evidently Svitz protected itself by ceasing to exist for quite a while… with the two of you still in it."

"…How does that work, exactly?"

Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes for a moment. "Believe me, you don't want to know. Needless to say… the two of you… well…" Oh, this is difficult. "…You remember your travelling companion?"

"I remember having one, but I have no memory of who he was," Cecil replies. "Which is odd, because we spent a lot of time in that weird valley with all the blue flowers and… uh… I think we were _very_ intimate and…"

This is the point at which his mind evidently catches up with what Carlos is studiously trying not to put into words.

"…oh. _Oh_. I… _what_?"

"Cecil," Carlos begins, deciding he's just going to say it, "your travelling companion? That was Kevin."

"But… we…"

"Yes, I know."

"Is that even..?"

"Not remotely, no. You should have unmade the entire universe and probably at least a couple of the closest parallel universes to boot. Somehow, Svitz just absorbed it all… although when it finally kicked the two of you out, it was at least another decade before it deigned to exist again."

Cecil stares. "So I… slept with _myself_? Is that even possible?"

Carlos can't meet his eyes. "You slept with your alternate personality and no, it shouldn't have been possible. It remains one of the most dangerous and creative uses of time travel ever recorded by science, however."

"…How did I not notice we were identical?"

"I have no idea. Maybe you did. The massive amount of naturally-occurring hallucinogens may have helped smooth it over. Or mask it altogether."

"…Does Kevin know?" Cecil now asks, voice going more than a little high-pitched.

"I don't think so," Carlos replies. "He certainly hasn't mentioned it, although he's got a lot of lines of logic to follow through so… he'll probably get there in the end."

"Oh, I'm glad I won't have to be around for that…" Cecil says, going rather pink, and then looking terribly guilty. "I'm sorry, that was inconsiderate. I know you must be having such an awful time of all this, and…"

Carlos looks down, suddenly unable to meet his boyfriend's eyes. "Why aren't you mad at me?" he asks, very softly, not able to hold back the question any longer.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"…Because I lied to you for over a _year_ and didn't tell you the truth even _after_ the sandstorm and even after what happened the other night, and… because of everything I've just told you, I…"

Cecil reaches to lay a hand on Carlos' cheek, gently urging him to look up again. "Carlos," he says, "how could I be mad at you? Everything you've done has been to protect me."

"But… but I _came_ here in the first place to _lie_ to you!"

"To protect me," Cecil says again. "From a truth that – now I know it – I can tell you is pretty darned terrifying. But you've been looking out for me all this time. Even before we were together. Carlos… how could I _ever_ be mad at you for that?"

It just… doesn't quite compute. Carlos has been worrying about this very eventuality for _months_ – and even more so since they got together – so to hear this instead of the anger he's sure he deserves… his mind can't quite process it.

Cecil pulls him in closer, laying a soft kiss against his lips, and Carlos leans into it like a drowning man who's finally found the surface of the dark water. "I love you," Cecil whispers. "Whatever else has happened – whatever else _does_ happen – don't forget that."

He gently pushes Carlos back on the couch, slipping into place on top of him and staring down with sudden intensity in his eyes. Carlos stares back for as long as he can, but within a moment he's snapped, and is kissing his boyfriend with all the strength he can muster.

It's OK. It's OK. Despite it all… the love of his life still loves him back.

It doesn't change the fact that they're in terrible danger, though. More than Cecil – or Kevin – knows yet. But for the moment… for the moment Carlos can just enjoy this. It's like a great weight has been lifted off him, and he can breathe again. And Cecil feels so good. So wonderful. So… right.

But they shouldn't go any further than this. They really shouldn't. There's far too much at stake, not to mention the very real risk that Cecil and Kevin might flip again at any moment.

This is common sense.

Apparently common sense has no place in the current situation, though, because, without even needing to say a word, Cecil and Carlos are suddenly on their feet, moving towards the bedroom and pulling each other's clothes off as they go, kissing almost frantically in between.

They shouldn't. They really shouldn't.

Carlos drops back on the bed, and stops worrying about it.

***

It's quite a while later. Outside, the sun has almost finished setting, though there's still a deep orange glow hinting at the edges of the few clouds visible through the gap in the curtains.

Cecil is lying on his back, with Carlos draped over his chest, and both of them are still catching their breath.

"…I think maybe we should do this mortal peril thing more often," Cecil manages. "Because that… that was… _wow_ , I think you broke me and I don't even mind…"

Carlos laughs just a little. "Well, I'd prefer it without the mortal peril but the rest? I could go for that…"

"You and me both…" Cecil agrees.

Carlos laughs again. "That was kinda the idea."

"I… should probably let you go back to trying to save the world, though," Cecil concedes. "Well. Trying to save me. Which means I'm even more invested in it than usual."

"Tell me about it," Carlos says.

"What are you _actually_ trying to do?" Cecil now asks. "I mean… what _can_ you do?"

Carlos holds him a little tighter. "Honestly… I'm not sure," he admits. And he isn't. But he can at least talk to Cecil about it… certainly more than he could talk to Kevin. (…Right?) "I'm trying to work out if there's a way to re-establish the spacetime flips without having to go out to the lab where it was all done in the first place, because… because I think those guys are up to something that neither of us wants to know about, and neither of us would likely _survive_ finding out about. But… the fact remains: getting the flips re-established is a backup plan. The primary plan… the one I should have been working on for over a year… is to work out how to separate the two of you."

"But… wouldn't that kill one of us?"

"Technically, that would work," Carlos replies. "But I'm not doing it."

"Good," Cecil says. "Because I don't want Kevin dead. Even if I did once technically try to kill him, and… oh, how did I manage to see him that time without unmaking the universe?"

"…Don't even get me started on that vortex," Carlos answers. "Seriously. That is not a headache I want again. Suffice it to say… suffice it to say you just _could_. And as for the rest… I don't know how to separate you without killing either of you. Not yet. But if it can be done… I am going to work out how."

"For science?" Cecil asks, smiling.

"For _you_ ," Carlos tells him.

This gets him flipped onto his back again and kissed, and _wow_ but it's still such a relief. And Carlos is in no hurry to move, though he knows he should… so when Cecil finally breaks the kiss, he says, "…I should go get started again. I can get a few more hours in before I have to sleep."

Cecil kisses him once more. "Then go for it," he says. "But don't expect to be sleeping too rapidly after you come back…"

"You are _insatiable_ …"

"And you love it. Now go science."

Carlos scrambles up, wraps himself in one of the sheets – no sense in doing any more when he's got a promise like _that_ to come back to – and heads out to his paper-and-string-strewn table.

He knows it's all survivor-relief. On both their parts. But it's also the best he's felt in days, and that's not something to be overlooked.

But it isn't to last. Carlos has only been working for a few moments, starting to go through his initial notes again in the hopes of spotting something he's missed, when he hears a soft thud and then a shout of surprise from the bedroom.

"…Carlos?!" comes a voice that is unmistakably Kevin. "…Carlos, what is going on?!"

"…Oh, merciful Einstein, kill me now…" Carlos breathes. "Why oh why didn't I see this coming..?"

_Because you weren't thinking with your brain_ , the voice of reason says, but he ignores it due to having more pressing concerns on his mind.

…And because it's right.

Cringing more than a little, Carlos wraps the sheet even tighter around himself and paces back to the bedroom door, looking cautiously in. The lighting is still low, and the other man is still here… though he's obviously Kevin now, which makes the fact that he's also wrapped tightly – and almost defensively – in a sheet of his own even more surprising.

"…Carlos," Kevin says again, in a very odd tone of voice. "Just… _what_ happened?"

"You really need me to draw you a picture?" Carlos replies, though he instantly regrets it in case Kevin decides to say yes.

Notably, however, he doesn't. "I think I can work out the technical bits," the other man answers. "It's more the part where you've been off having _sex_ instead of trying to fix this whole mess!"

"And how is any of this my fault?!" Carlos exclaims. "I didn't do it to you. I'm just the one who got dragged in to monitor it. I didn't even want to do that! I wanted to go to Franchia and study the temporal-warping effects of the northernmost ridge of arches! But _no_ , I have to get _strong-armed_ by the government and by… by certain other people… and packed off to this insane place to study a man I wasn't even supposed to talk to and accidentally ended up falling head-over-heels in love with!"

Kevin stares. " _Wow_ , you are hot when you're mad. But! No! Stop distracting me with how perfect you are! I'm still mad at you!"

"Well, _good_ , because maybe then you'll hit on me less!"

"I woke up in your _bed_! How do you think that will make me hit on you _less_?!"

They both glower at each other for a very long and awkward moment before Kevin starts to calm down… which is probably for the best in more ways than one because Carlos is sure the man's palms were beginning to glow, and he's suddenly wishing he'd thought to look up _how_ you summon demons when he first found out that Kevin _could_.

"…What happened?" Kevin asks, much calmer now.

Carlos takes a deep breath. "You flipped and Cecil re-emerged. I told him everything, expecting him to hate me for it all, and he… didn't. We talked and then… then he kissed me… and I think it was a survival-relief thing, and then we…" He blushes and gestures at the bed. "…Well. That. And then I went off to carry on with my research because I _am_ actually trying to find a way to fix you both, only I got interrupted within moments because you decided to start shrieking like a prima donna!"

"I woke up naked in a strange bed!" Kevin replies. "For the second time this week! You'd do the same!"

It really is difficult when the man has a valid point. Carlos rubs a hand over his eyes. "Look. I need to go do some more research. Can you maybe… I don't know… occupy yourself without bothering me for half an hour? Or all night?"

Kevin narrows his eyes. Seeing him anything other than unflappably cheery and bright is beyond terrifying. "Fine," he concedes. "Fine. Go do science."

Carlos takes this as an opportunity to make his escape, but he's only gotten a few paces when he hears Kevin get up. "I just want you to know I resent having to shower after sex I didn't even get to have!" the other man declares, and stalks into the bathroom, shutting the door with a snap.

Carlos facepalms. This would be funny if it wasn't also Hell on Earth.

***

One of the few saving graces about Kevin is that he spends _ages_ in the shower. By the time he emerges, Carlos has had a chance to retrieve his dressing gown (because it's safer than a sheet if he's going to be around Kevin all night) and is midway through his notes on trans-dimensional duplication.

When Kevin finally deigns to come back, he's wearing a dressing gown of his own – well, technically it's Cecil's but at this point the distinction seems to be mostly semantic – and humming to himself. He wanders over to the couch, locates the book he's been reading, and settles down with it.

All without saying a word. And the only thing more worrying than listening to Kevin talk is listening to him not talk.

For about ten minutes – or whatever passes for ten minutes in a town where time doesn't work – Carlos tries not to mention it. He tries to focus on what he's doing and not worry about whether his boyfriend's alternate personality is still cross with him. Or anything else. Because. Once all this is sorted out, he can pack the maniac back off to insane, blood-drenched Desert Bluffs and return to life as normal.

…Right?

It's only when Carlos looks up, wondering what Kevin is doing, that he realises the other man has moved. Has… _gone_. For a second, the panic stabs through him, mixed with the understanding that he really _does_ get too engrossed in his work sometimes, and then he becomes aware of the warm air pooling into the room from the now-open back door.

Cautiously, he stands and paces around to it. Kevin is just beyond, sitting on the steps and looking up at the star-covered sky.

"…You OK?" Carlos asks, very carefully.

"Oh, sure," Kevin answers, without turning. That unwavering brightness is back in his tone, but somehow Carlos isn't fooled by it this time. "I feel much better now."

Carlos hesitates a second, then moves to sit down next to him, on the low step.

There's a very long silence.

"…You're not OK, are you?" he asks, when it gets too much.

Kevin still doesn't look at him, keeping his eyes on the sky. "No," he says. "No. I… how could anyone be OK with this? My whole life… however long that really is… I've been manipulated. I mean, sure, we get manipulated all the time… by the World Government, by Strexcorp, by God… but that's all _consensual_. It's part of the deal, part of what makes us _human_. But this… how am I supposed to process this?"

"I don't know," Carlos admits. "If it was me… I don't know what I'd do."

"Can I… can I ask you something?" Kevin goes on, after a moment. "I probably shouldn't but if I don't… if I don't I'll never know for sure and that'll just _kill_ me inside."

"Go on," Carlos replies, mentally bracing himself a little… which means he's even more taken aback when what Kevin says next turns out to be nothing like what he expected.

"…Am I even real?"

The question is so raw and heartfelt that Carlos can't help feeling sorry for the man now. "What do you mean?" he manages. "Of course you're real."

"Am I, though? I didn't exist until that creature made me appear in Cecil's mind, did I?"

"Well, no, technically you didn't… not as an independent consciousness. But none of us exists until we're made through one quirk of science or another. You just… came to exist via a much more uncommon process. It doesn't make you any less real."

Kevin looks sideways at him, dark eyes full of the strangest emotion. "But… everything I am comes from him, right?"

"Yes. And everything I am comes from both of my parents."

"…So, what? I'm like his son?"

"More like his twin. Actually, entirely like his twin, seeing as you both came from the same single source."

Kevin stares up at the sky again. "But I'm nothing like him."

Carlos gives a little shrug that hides a lot. "Plenty of twins are nothing alike. Although… you kinda are, you know."

"I am?"

"You are." Though Carlos decides it's probably safer not to elaborate on this too much, even now.

There's another pause.

"…I feel so lost," Kevin says, finally, and quietly too, as if he's reluctant to admit it. "My life was rolling along just fine and now… now I feel like I've run headlong into a brick wall. And I have no idea how to process that. And I know Cecil must be feeling the same. I wish there was some way we could help each other through it… but there isn't. But at least… at least he has you."

Under different circumstances, Carlos knows he would have suspected this to be another covert come-on, but this time… this time, he suspects it isn't. And that makes it all the more alarming.

Very cautiously, he puts a hand on Kevin's shoulder, which makes the man jump and look over at him in surprise.

"You aren't alone," Carlos tells him. "Yes, it would help if you hit on me less, and yes, we're going to have serious problems if you ever try summoning demons in my apartment, but… Kevin, you're my boyfriend's alternate personality. You're… part of each other. He has me, yes, but you have me too. In a _platonic_ way," he adds, seeing the little flicker in Kevin's eyes.

And this gets him such a look of gratitude – despite it all – that he can't quite help putting an arm around the other man, pulling him gently in against his shoulder. Kevin actually jumps a little at the contact at first, but then relaxes. They sit like that for several minutes, neither one saying a word, just watching the stars overhead.

"We should go back inside," Kevin says, finally. "It's easier for the helicopters to spot us out here."

"…Yes," Carlos manages. "Yes. That."

So they do. Kevin goes back to his couch – and his inexplicable choice of book – and Carlos goes back to his research. For at least the next couple of hours, they hardly speak at all, although it's the silence of concentration, not the silence of aggression, and thus much easier to work through.

The sensible next step would be to go to bed. Carlos knows this. He should go to bed – trying studiously hard not to think about what he'd _hoped_ to be doing at this point – and sleep. He barely slept last night and, no matter how much coffee he drinks, he is eventually going to start losing efficacy if he doesn't get at least a few uninterrupted hours.

This would be the sensible step. Not to look up, just as he's contemplating sleep, and look over at Kevin; Kevin, who is now sitting curled on the couch, book down, staring into space with that genuinely worried flicker in his eyes again.

He's so… alarmingly like Cecil when he does that. This would be so much easier if the man carried on being the super-cheery maniac he usually is. Not… not this person who is suddenly so _human_.

And Carlos wants to help him. Even though he knows what the man gets up to in a standard week. Even though he knows full-well what goes on in that insane place the man comes from. Even though…

Even though he should stay as far away as possible. For so many reasons, some beyond what he can even think about, never mind contemplate giving voice to.

Slowly, Carlos gets up and paces over to the couch. Kevin stares up at him as he gets close, evidently a little surprised by the move.

"What?" he asks, softly.

Carefully – cautiously – Carlos sits down beside him, arm out to pull him in close again, gently drawing Kevin into a hug. It… isn't about sex, or physical attraction. It isn't.

It's about the fact that Carlos can't bear to see the man suffer.

He lies back on the couch, letting Kevin curl in against his chest. Neither of them says a word, and perhaps it's easier that way, because there might be difficult questions if they did. They just… lie, silent and still, and calmer than either one has been in hours.

Within five minutes, they're both asleep.


	4. Monozygous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of my other series, The Eye and the Aperture, are about to meet a familiar character with a very _unfamiliar_ backstory. Needless to say, I had a _lot_ of fun with this part.

When Cecil awakens, the room is full of the soft glow of morning. He's wrapped in a dressing gown, curled on a couch and… he's been asleep on Carlos' chest, held in his arms.

And _wow_ , but that feels good. So very, very good. So very, very…

…Wait a second. The last thing he remembers is being in bed, after he and Carlos had…

…Well, that's a good memory too. But! Don't get distracted! He'd been in bed, and Carlos had gone off to do science – as he so often does – and…

And nothing else. Which can only mean one thing: Cecil must have flipped at that point. Must have shifted into Kevin. And given the lack of any more memories, he must have been Kevin until some point during the night, seemingly whilst he was asleep.

All of which is… well. Not fine, because Cecil really isn't all that happy about discovering his double actually lives inside his head, but at least he knows about it now, which is an improvement on the state of things for the last however-long.

No. The weird part is this: here he is, curled up in Carlos' arms, on the couch in his living room. And the last time he was awake… he was Kevin.

For a long pause, Cecil's brain tries to work out some explanation for all of this, but he can't quite get it to resolve.

"…Carlos?" he says, finally.

The other man stirs a little at the sound of his name, blinking his eyes open. "Cecil?" he replies. "That's you, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Good… good… you must have… in the night, I…"

Evidently it's at this point that Carlos' brain gets to the same point Cecil's has reached, albeit from the other side. He stares up at his boyfriend, looking suddenly worried and more than a little guilty.

"What happened?" Cecil asks, softly. Almost nervously. "If I'm waking up here like this… then I went to sleep here like this. Except it wasn't me… it was Kevin. So…"

"…Why was I curled up on the couch with Kevin?" Carlos finishes.

All Cecil can do is nod.

"Nothing happened," Carlos now insists. "I promise you, nothing happened. He just… Cecil, he was _scared_ and it was weird and I… I just… I couldn't bear to see him in pain. So I… held him. That's all."

"You're… you're not..?"

"What? Attracted to him? Physically, of course I am. He's you. But my feelings for you are far more than just physical. You know that. It's _you_ I'm in love with, and he… isn't you. And yes, it's hard to watch him suffer, and it's true this would be so much easier if I didn't see you every time I look at him, but… put yourself in my shoes. If there was someone who looked identical to me… how would you feel if you saw them in pain?"

"It would break my heart," Cecil replies, putting a hand on Carlos' cheek and staring down at him. "And I trust you. Of course I trust you. You don't have to explain any more. I was just worried about you."

Carlos stares back. "You're… not upset with me? I fell asleep with another man in my arms!"

"You fell asleep with another _me_ in your arms. It isn't the same thing. I'm just glad you're looking after us both. The last thing I want is him going weird and running off on you or something. If I wake up in Desert Bluffs again I think it might be the end of me."

"…I really don't deserve you," Carlos mutters.

"Of course you do. Now stop worrying and come here."

And Cecil pulls the other man in tight. Hold on. Holding on a _lot_. Because… he trusts Carlos completely. He really does. But Kevin? Cecil still doesn't trust him at all.

***

By mid-morning, Carlos seems to have calmed down a little. Cecil may have had something of a hand in that. They've been together long enough for him to have perfected a trick or two to distract the man when he's feeling edgy.

And now Carlos is back at his paper-strewn table, muttering to himself a little as he tries to make sense of all of this. He's so very, very smart and it's a joy to watch him work, even when the stakes are so high. And so personal. Cecil, meanwhile, is making some notes to send over to the radio station for Intern Jamie, who is apparently covering the show today. Yesterday it was covered by Intern Peter, but this seems to have ended badly as the man apparently dissolved midway through the weather whilst adjusting something on the sound board, causing great difficulty when everything went live again.

Well. If nothing else, it's nice to be missed.

"Coffee?" Cecil asks, deciding now would be a good time for caffeine.

"Yes, please," Carlos replies.

Cecil gets up and goes over to make them some… only he doesn't even get as far as opening the cupboard because he spots something outside.

"…Carlos," he whispers, suddenly. Urgently. "Don't make any abrupt moves, but… there's someone outside. Several someones. And they're creeping towards the back door."

Carlos looks up, eyes suddenly wide with shock and what looks like terrible understanding. "…Dark suits, purple ties, and lab coats?" he asks.

"…How did you know?" Cecil replies, surprised at how accurate the description is… though, in retrospect, he realises he shouldn't have been surprised at all.

"I knew this would happen," Carlos answers, leaping to his feet. "I just hoped we'd have longer. We have to get out of here. We have to get out of here _now_."

The shock and urgency in the other man's voice is far scarier than the fact there's strange people creeping up on the back door. "Who are they?" Cecil asks.

"I'll explain when we're out of here," Carlos promises, "but we have to go. Come on!" He hurries over to peer through the living room blinds at the front of the house. "The front's clear," he says. "We should be able to make it to the car."

Cecil has so many questions, but he manages to keep them to himself for the moment, knowing they've got more pressing matters to deal with. Carlos swipes his car keys off the hall table, grabs Cecil's hand, and they burst out the front door all at once.

The way may be clear, but someone notices. There's shouts of, "Round the front!" and "There they are!" though Cecil doesn't stop to look for who the speakers are. He and Carlos race towards the car – Carlos' car – leaping in without hesitation and slamming the doors rapidly shut.

"Stay down!" Carlos urges, hands visibly shaking as he turns the key in the ignition and immediately slams his foot on the gas, driving off as fast as he can.

He's always been a rather… over-enthusiastic driver. Perhaps it's why he actually prefers to be driven. Right now… Cecil isn't going to mention it. Not when they have bigger problems in hand.

"Who were they?" he asks, as they hurtle out of Carlos' neighbourhood and onto the Eastern Expressway. "And how did you know what they looked like?"

"They were bad news," Carlos replies. "And I knew because… because there's a lot I still haven't told you. I lot I didn't want to tell you. Please, just… just let me get us somewhere safe, and then I promise I'll tell you all of it."

"Where can we go?" Cecil asks.

"Only one place I know. The seismic monitoring station."

"We'll be safe there?"

"If we'll be safe anywhere, we'll be safe there," Carlos tells him. "I… merciful Einstein, Cecil, I am so sorry about all of this."

Cecil reaches to put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "You have nothing to apologise for. Except maybe your driving… although in this situation, I think it's justified."

***

They take the long way round to the seismic monitoring station, partly to lose anyone who might be following them, and partly because Carlos is not so good at directions when he's a) driving and b) slightly off his head with worry. It works out, though, because soon they're hurtling off into the desert along the right road, and there's no one following them.

Eventually, they pull up in a small, dusty car park beside an equally small, concrete building that's no more than a few car lengths square. The sun is right overhead, beating down, and the isolation of the place is alarmingly noticeable.

"This is it?" Cecil asks. He's heard plenty about the facility, but never actually been here before.

"This is it," Carlos replies. "Well. This is the way in. The station itself is deep underground. They won't be able to track us down there."

"But… won't we be trapped?"

Despite it all, Carlos manages a smile. "No. There's more than one way out. And they won't be able to creep up on us. If they turn up… _when_ they turn up… we'll see them coming."

They head inside the small concrete building, which turns out to be little more than a blank lobby with a pair of elevator doors in it. Carlos flashes a keycard at the reader on the wall beside them, and the elevator whirs into life, clanking slowly upwards.

"I should warn you," Carlos says, as they wait, "that at least one of my scientists will be down there. Bill. He never leaves. He's convinced the clouds are after him, so he doesn't go above ground anymore. He's a little… odd… but his heart's in the right place. I don't know if any of the others will be here, but I think probably not. A lot of them have been spending all their time at the non-existent house over in the Desert Creek development."

"Understandable, really," Cecil replies. "I can't wait to find out what's really going on with that place."

The elevator doors slide open, and Carlos tugs Cecil inside, waiting until the doors have closed before pushing into his arms for a hug. "I really am sorry about all this," he says, again, and it's only now he's got the man so close that Cecil can tell how much his boyfriend is shaking. And whilst Carlos can be a little nervous at times, he's usually fearless too. Especially in the pursuit of science.

So to see him so rattled is… worrying.

Neither of them says a word as the elevator slowly descends. As they finally reach their destination and clunk to a halt, the doors slide open, revealing the area beyond: a central chamber at least four or five storeys high, with several doors and passageways heading off from it in different directions. They all have signs next to them, explaining what they lead to: sensible scientific things like _'Laboratory'_ and _'Tremor Centre.'_ On the right, there's three that are listed as _'Residential Chamber'_ A, B and C, although the sign for chamber B has a hand-written sign taped over the top of it that reads, simply, _'Bill.'_

There's no one else around although, as the elevator doors click shut, someone comes pacing in from the door marked _'Laboratory'_ : a fairly tall, thin man in a lab coat. He has short, close-cropped brown hair and bright blue eyes, and smiles a little as he sees them.

"Ah, hey, Carlos, you made it," he says.

"Hey, Bill," Carlos replies.

This surprises Cecil a little. From all he's heard about Bill, he's been expecting the guy to look like a typical slightly-insane underground scientist, as described in the Sheriff's Secret Police's _'Know Your Social Oddities'_ explanatory pamphlet. But the man in front of him doesn't have an extravagant beard, or wild, distracted eyes. He seems so… normal.

"How are the clouds today?" Bill asks.

"There aren't many about," Carlos tells him, in the tone of someone who is more than used to having this conversation. "Mostly just those small greyish-white ones that hover near the horizon."

"Ah," Bill says. "I expected as much. They're stepping up their game, but they're not going to find me."

…OK, maybe a little less normal.

"Bill, this is Cecil," Carlos says, gesturing between them. "My boyfriend. Cecil, Bill."

"Oh, good to finally meet you," Bill says, shaking Cecil's hand. "I love your show. I was impressed when you tried to do that exposé on clouds a while back, but not really surprised that the Secret Police censored it. I think they're in on the whole debacle, though I haven't been able to prove it yet."

"…Wait," Carlos cuts in, before Cecil can respond, "…you said 'you made it.' How did you know we were coming? I didn't call ahead in case they've got the phones tapped."

Bill exchanges a knowing little look with Cecil. "Oh, Carlos, of course they've got the phones tapped. How long have you lived here now? But, to answer your question: I knew because the other guy arrived a while before you did, and he said you'd be here soon."

Carlos stares in obvious shock. "The… other guy?" he manages.

"Yeah," Bill replies, calmly. "I can't believe you never told us you had one."

"…One what?" Cecil asks.

"Oh _no_ ," Carlos mutters, at exactly the same time. "He's here? Where?"

Bill gives a shrug and points. "In the meeting room. Said he just needed someplace with a table so I let him in and left him to it."

Carlos looks over at the door in question, then grabs Cecil's hand and tugs him over to it.

"Ask him if he wants coffee!" Bill calls after them, before wandering off again with another little shrug.

"Just… just don't over-react," Carlos says to Cecil, pausing outside the door with _'Meeting Room'_ on it, and staring at his boyfriend with a rather desperate, urgent look in his eyes. "This is part of what I was going to explain, but I'd rather not have done it like… oh let's just get this over with…"

And he pushes the door open.

Beyond is a fairly standard-looking meeting room, containing a wide, central table and several chairs. The table is currently spread with papers and more than a little string and, though it's chaotic, the whole arrangement seems oddly familiar.

But long before Cecil can ask Carlos why this is, he realises he's got something far bigger to deal with… for standing over the table is a man in a lab coat; evidently the man Bill was talking about, the man who seems to be causing Carlos such alarm. He looks up as they walk in, smiling in something like delight.

A perfect smile, which lights up a face beneath a head of perfect hair.

Cecil stares, stunned and awestruck… because the man in front of them both is absolutely identical to Carlos. 

"Oh, hey you!" the man says. "I wondered when you'd get here."

"…You have a double?" Cecil exclaims, finally managing to form words again. "You told me you didn't have one!"

"I don't," Carlos replies, a flicker of resignation in his tone, though Cecil can tell it's not directed at him. "Cecil… this is Tomas. My twin brother."

"…You have a _twin_?" Cecil now manages.

"Yep," Carlos says, even more resigned.

"Oh, stop with all the glaring, little brother," Tomas cuts in, tone so very bright.

"Don't call me that!" Carlos retorts. "Just because I was born three minutes and fourteen seconds after you does not make me the 'little' one!"

"Uh, it kinda does," Tomas points out. "Because of time."

"Well, time doesn't work here, as you well know, so… argh!"

Cecil is still staring between the two of them. _Two_ of them. Carlos alone is distracting enough, but _another_ one?!

"What are you doing here?" Carlos now asks, in his trying-to-be-sensible voice.

"What am _I_ doing here?" Tomas repeats. "You completely sever the temporal link and then abscond with _my_ subject, and you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Of course I knew you'd notice," Carlos says. "I don't mean 'why did you notice?' I mean 'why are you _here_?'"

"How complicated an answer would you like to that?" Tomas asks, hands on his hips. "Shall I go back as far as the Big Bang, or would you just like the more recent bits?"

"Merciful _Einstein_ , why do you have to be this annoying?!" Carlos exclaims.

Tomas relaxes. "Oh, lighten up, I'm just trying to make you relax a little. You look like you're about to have an aneurysm!"

Carlos takes a very deep breath, but he still isn't anywhere close to relaxed. "Tomas," he says, voice slightly more level, "I have spent the best part of the last two days trying to deal with the fact that my boyfriend, the love of my life and the one good thing to happen to me in a _very_ long time keeps turning into his alternate personality, a man who can swing from blatantly hitting on me and looking like he's about to summon demons in my living room to having a very emotional breakdown on my back steps! And then, to cap it all off, those _maniacs_ from the agency's science division turned up and chased us out of my apartment! In broad daylight! So, please, if you could just tone it down for _two_ minutes so I can _focus_ , I'd be infinitely grateful! I know you've spent the last year-and-a-bit living in Desert Bluffs but you don't have to be so _darnedly_ cheery all the time!"

By the end of this paragraph, the levelness to his tone has vanished and been replaced with something much more frantic again. Carlos pauses, as if realising he's been monologuing, and then sinks down into one of the nearby chairs, looking a little shell-shocked.

Cecil stares at him. "I'm… the one good thing to happen to you in a very long time?" he asks, softly. He knows he should be focusing more on the issue in hand, but to hear Carlos say that is… strangely wonderful.

Carlos looks up. "Of course you are," he answers, voice cracking a little.

Cecil takes his hand and pulls him to his feet, wrapping him into a hug. Tomas watches in something like amazement. "Wow," he says. "You're alarmingly good at that." He holds out a hand. "Sorry the introductions went a bit wrong. I'm Tomas."

"Cecil," he replies, shaking Tomas' hand without letting go of Carlos.

"I know. I can tell by the voice."

"So… do you know Kevin?"

"Not directly," Tomas replies.

"But… you went to Desert Bluffs to watch him; the same way… the same way Carlos came to Night Vale to watch me?"

"Yes," Tomas answers, "but… I… employed a different method."

"Which is?"

"…I hid from him."

"…Forgive me if this sounds a little personal given that I've only just met you, but… you don't seem like the sort to be socially reclusive."

Tomas laughs. "Oh, I'm not, you're quite right! I just… made sure to stay off Kevin's radar."

"Why?"

"So this wouldn't happen," the scientist says, gesturing at the two of them. "Both of you… you and Kevin… have very… _magnetic_ personalities. I thought it was safer to keep my distance. Plus, I'd just had a bad break-up and I decided it would be best to lie low for a while. You know, like we were _supposed_ to," he adds, looking pointedly at Carlos.

His twin extricates himself – with obvious reluctance – from Cecil's arms and goes back to glaring at his brother. "I tried to keep a low profile," he insists. "I really did. It isn't my fault I had to go public about moving to the town and it certainly isn't my fault I accidentally fell in love with the man I was secretly watching!"

"Look," Cecil interjects, before the two of them manage to start arguing again – as only brothers can – "I think you need to tell me what's really going on here, even if it would be sort of fun to just let you fight for as long as you wanted. Maybe in a ring of jello."

Both scientists stare at him. Cecil grins.

"Are you sure he's not Kevin right now?" Tomas stage-whispers to Carlos.

"I thought I was," Carlos whispers back.

There's a weird little pause, and then Carlos turns to Cecil once more. "All right," he says. "Look. I told you I came to Night Vale in order to watch you, at the behest of… of the science division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Well… Tomas went to Desert Bluffs to do the same with Kevin. Both of us were free to pursue our own research, provided we kept watch on whichever of you we were assigned to and provided we monitored the effects of all the constant spacetime travel on the fabric of reality. And… look, Cecil, you have to understand that I don't regret a thing. Not a thing. Not the fact that you found out about me, or the fact that you pursued me very publicly for months, and certainly not the fact that I ultimately had a near-death experience which made me come to my senses and accept that I was as in love with you as you were with me. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Cecil promises him, gripping his hand again.

"Good. Because… because what you also need to know is that I did not – did _not_ – want to come here in the first place. I mean I really, really didn't. I wanted to go to Franchia and study the temporal-warping effects of the northernmost ridge of arches."

"Understandable. They're very impressive. So… why didn't you?"

Carlos gestures at Tomas. "Ask him."

Tomas gives a sheepish little grin. "Yeah, that was… kinda my fault."

"It was entirely your fault, Tomas, and you know it."

"All right, all right, it was entirely my fault!" he accepts. "Look. I was living in Dallas, and everything was cool, and I'd just broken up with my boyfriend because it turned out he was a miserable excuse for a human being and I may have gotten a little upset and… Look. Look. That fire was not my fault, nor were all the cows that developed a sudden taste for blood, and I certainly had nothing _whatsoever_ to do with the radioactive fallout and… Stop staring at me like that! I _was_ responsible for the curly straws that made you temporarily able to speak Russian, though. That one was me."

"Tomas!" Carlos cuts in. "Focus!"

"Oh… yes. Yes. Right," Tomas says, though the wistful look in his eyes doesn't fade. "Anyways. Some nice men from the vague-yet-menacing government agency came to see me and… well, let's just say they made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Before I know it, I'm a freelance contractor working for their science division and _wow_ , it was awesome. Also, you know. Terrifying. They had this thing they could do, where they… no, no, I guess you won't want to hear about that. Probably for the best. I couldn't sleep for weeks after I first saw the results and… oh, I digress. _Anyways_ , eventually they come to me and tell me all about this guy out in a little desert community with a weird alternate personality who needs some careful monitoring because of a time travel thing, and it sounds so interesting and I'm like, where do I sign up? Only… only, there's a catch."

"A catch?" Cecil asks.

"Yeah," Tomas replies. "Turns out… this desert community has some sort of weird link to another desert community which is the result of… some very ancient magics and more than a little physics-defying science. And, seriously, it sounded like the most amazing thing ever. Only, it also turns out that, as all the people in the first community – Night Vale – have alternate doubles in the second community – Desert Bluffs – then I can't go moving in to one of them on a whim because… well, because it might unmake the universe a little bit. The unbalance of me living in one town and not the other would upset the supernatural forces binding the two towns together and apparently rip a hole in the fabric of reality. So, in order for it to work… they need another me. Good thing, then, that I have…"

"…a twin," Carlos finishes. "So. At this point, I'm living in San Francisco, quietly doing my science and trying to get a grant for the Franchia trip when one day, whilst I'm walking to the grocery store, I get grabbed by two guys in black suits and bundled into the back of a van. Someone cracks me over the head and I'm convinced this is it, this is the end, and when I wake up I'm in the very epitome of a secret underground bunker with no idea as to where it is or how I get out. And that's when they tell me about the whole mess my dear twin brother has gotten himself into. They tell me how they want me to go to this little desert town called Night Vale where I can basically do any science I want so long as I watch a guy with two personalities, only I have to stay there long-term – maybe for the rest of my life – and I can't ever talk about what I'm really doing."

"And… you said no?" Cecil asks. It's more than a little scary to hear all these things about his boyfriend… all these things about his past that he was never allowed to discuss. All these things that meant they almost never met.

"Oh, I said no," Carlos replies. "My Franchia trip was weeks away from being greenlit and I couldn't wait to leave everything behind and just… just get out there, you know?"

"So… so why didn't you?" Cecil now asks, aware his voice is shaking.

"They didn't give me a choice. They said either I was going to Night Vale, or I was staying in that bunker until I changed my mind."

"…How long did you hold out?"

"Three and a half weeks. It would have been longer, but they kept Tomas with me the whole time, and we just do _not_ do well in close proximity for too long. For one thing, he doesn't have proper respect for glassware storage conventions and he moves all my chalk without asking."

"I thought I'd solved Fermat's Last Theorem!" Tomas protests. "I needed to write it down quickly! It's not my fault it eventually turned out I'd forgotten to carry the one!"

"Yeah, it kinda is," Carlos points out.

"Oh… shush."

Carlos gives him something of a look before proceeding. "So, after those three and a half weeks… I agreed. They told me what was going on – told me all about you and Kevin, and how they'd been monitoring you for years – and then they sent me off to Night Vale."

"And me off to Desert Bluffs," Tomas adds.

"Why… that way round?" Cecil has to ask.

"Look at the two of us and tell me which way round _you'd_ do it," Carlos says, flatly.

"…Good point," Cecil concedes. "So… now what?"

The two brothers exchange another glance. "Well, that's the tricky part," Tomas replies. "We could possibly find a way to re-establish the time-jumps and re-regulate the flips in your mind between you and Kevin. The science team did it once before and I'm confident that it could be done again. Only… I think there's a better solution." He looks at Carlos. "Tell me you've been thinking it too."

"You mean the energy readings that pop up every time there's a sandstorm?" Carlos replies. "Yeah. Oh yeah. I've been thinking it too."

"Energy readings?" Cecil asks.

"Yes," Carlos tells him. "This is where it gets equal parts hopeful and terrifying. You see..–"

And that's the moment in which, in a sudden wave of dizziness, Cecil feels the whole world go black.

***

Kevin blinks his eyes open. His head is throbbing and he's vaguely aware that – wherever he is – there's a lot of artificial lights.

The world starts to swim into view overhead. He's lying on a cold floor, and there's two people kneeling beside him, looking down at him and…

…one of them is Carlos. No. _Both_ of them are Carlos?!

"…Oh, I've died and gone to Heaven…" he murmurs, happily. "'Cause now there's two of you…"

One of the Carloses… Carlii… how do you even pluralise that? …scowls at him. "He's fine," he says. "He's just Kevin now."

The other Carlos looks a little skittish, which is the point at which Kevin realises that there really _are_ two of them and… OK, _is_ he actually dead?

"Come here, you," the first Carlos says, taking his arm and helping him up, guiding him into one of the chairs in the room where they are… a room Kevin has never seen before. He blinks some more, trying to get his eyes to work properly, then lifts a hand to rub at the back of his head, which currently hurts.

"What happened?" he asks.

"You were Cecil, and then you flipped," the first Carlos tells him. "You very briefly pass out whenever that happens, and unlike the previous few times this has happened, this time you were standing up. So you fell down."

"I… see," Kevin manages. Then he leans in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Why are there two of you?"

"Ah… sorry. I really need a better way of keeping track of what I've told each of you. This… is Tomas. My twin brother. Tomas… Kevin."

"It's… good to finally meet you," Tomas says, shaking Kevin's hand.

"The pleasure's all mine," Kevin replies. "Seriously. My whole world is completely out of control and my head hurts because I fell down and I can tell you, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this may just be the best moment of my life."

"I liked you better when you had existential angst," Carlos points out, sounding a little sullen.

"I still have existential angst!" Kevin insists. "I'm just somewhat distracted from it by the fact that there's _two_ of you. I am _not_ normally this lucky."

" _Kevin!_ " Carlos cuts in. "Focus!"

"…Oh, fine," Kevin says, though he doesn't exactly look reticent. "Go on, then. Where am I and why do you suddenly have a twin?"

"I don't suddenly have a twin," Carlos replies. "I've had a twin my whole life. He's just… here now."

"Maybe you'd better explain," Kevin suggests.

"I should really start recording these the first time I do them so I can just play them back when you flip…" Carlos murmurs, and takes a deep breath.

And he explains. He explains where they are and why, and then – with some help from Tomas – he explains how he ended up in Night Vale in the first place. It's such a strange story that Kevin can't help but just listen, a little transfixed by these stories of a past – of two pasts – he never expected to hear about.

Eventually Carlos falls silent, and Kevin finds himself plagued by the million-dollar question.

"…Why have we never met?" he says to Tomas.

For a man who obviously has quite a wild side – if the story of his scientific exploits in Dallas is anything to go by – Tomas looks strangely hesitant at the question. "I… thought it was safer to keep my distance."

"Safer?" Kevin repeats. "You seriously think I'm dangerous?"

"No, not like that, I mean–"

But Tomas doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence because at that moment a harsh klaxon starts to ring out, and red lights flash up on the walls.

"Oh, merciful Einstein, that's not good," Carlos says.

"I figured," Tomas replies, a little wryly, though looking strangely relieved by the interruption.

"What does it mean?" Kevin asks. There's so many possibilities at this point and he'd really rather know which one it is… and therefore whether it's bad enough to warrant him summoning a demon to deal with it.

That's a good thought. He tries to focus on it, and not on the fact that he's in a weird underground science facility in the middle of the desert, where some undetermined and alarm-worthy bad thing is currently happening.

…Maybe he should do a little summoning anyway. Just to help. He feels the lovely, ancient words slip slowly into his mind and he's confident that, whatever's going on, it would be much easier to deal with if he had an eight-foot demon from an untold infernal dimension at his back.

"Will you stop?!" Carlos exclaims, evidently catching the way Kevin's palms have started to glow.

He looks more reticent than he feels. "Sorry. Force of habit."

But, before Carlos can respond, the door bursts open and a man comes running in, carrying a hatchet in one hand and looking wild-eyed with concern. Kevin has no idea who he is but apparently Carlos and Tomas do, because they seem more relieved than anything else and not at all concerned by the hatchet-wielding man charging into the room.

"Bill," Carlos says, "what's going on?"

"There's men trying to get in at the main elevator," the newcomer – evidently Bill – says, gesturing with the hatchet. "They're wearing lab coats but they're no scientists I recognise. They've got the Strex look about them."

"Oh _no_ ," Tomas breathes. "That's just what we need."

"Hey!" Kevin protests, automatically. "I'll have you know that Strexcorp is the primary employer in Desert Bluffs and is responsible for…"

"…How come your voice is different now?" Bill interrupts.

"…Long story," Carlos says, before Kevin can respond. "Suffice it to say… he's not Cecil at the moment. He's Kevin. Cecil's alternate personality."

"…I _see_ ," Bill manages. "You mean the one from Desert Bluffs?"

"Yes. I mean the one from Desert Bluffs."

"But… in the same body?"

"Yes."

"…Huh. How does that work, anyway?"

"If you get him some string he can explain it," Kevin cuts in, helpfully.

"Or we could save the explanations for a time when we're _not_ in danger of a fate worse than death and maybe get _out_ of this place first," Tomas says. "Seriously. How am _I_ the sane element in this equation?"

"I don't know, maybe you _forgot to carry the one!_ " Carlos replies, a little hotly.

"At least _I_ remembered to stick to the parameters of my mission!" Tomas retorts, and there's clearly something going on here although Kevin isn't sure what it is.

It's ridiculously hot though. Ridiculously. How is he supposed to cope with two of them?!

"…Escaping now?" Bill prompts.

"Yes," Carlos says, taking a deep breath. "Yes. It won't take them long to bypass the access protocols on the main elevator. It's not like this place is designed to be hyper-secure. Are they trying to get in anywhere else?"

"Not according to the CCTV," Bill replies. "Not yet, at least."

"That helps."

"You should take the eastern tunnel," Bill suggests. "They'll never risk following you all the way to the end."

Carlos facepalms. "Seriously, Bill, you're one of the smartest people I know – apart from the cloud thing – but you have got to re-think your standing on the eastern tunnel."

"Why? It's a perfectly good route."

"It comes out in Radon Canyon!"

"And?"

"There is no 'and,' Bill! It's _Radon Canyon!_ "

"…Sometimes you are too sensible for your own good."

"I know, right?" Tomas agrees. "He was the same when we were kids. Always alphabetising things instead of coming exploring with me…"

In the distance, there's a very ominous clunk.

"Oh no, they're in the elevator!" Carlos exclaims. "We're not taking the eastern tunnel… what about the northern one?"

"That works too," Bill admits, grudgingly. "Less fun, though. And more walking."

"Also less radon!" Carlos adds, pointedly. "Come on, we have to get moving. Bill, are you coming with us?"

He shakes his head. "And risk the clouds seeing me? I'll take my chances with the mystery scientists, thank you very much. Besides, I have this hatchet."

Carlos looks unconvinced. "If I get back and find this place full of bodies…"

"That was _one_ time and I said it won't happen again!" Bill protests.

The distant clunking gets louder.

"We should maybe run!" Kevin says.

For once, they don't argue.


	5. Smoke and Mirrors

The northern tunnel does look suspiciously like a ventilation duct, but Carlos continues to insist that it isn't in the hope that neither of the other two will notice. They clamber inside, the entrance awkwardly low, but once they're in they can easily walk upright.

It's a little too reminiscent of the pin retrieval area of Lane Five at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex for Carlos' liking, but he does have other things on his mind right now.

They're quiet as they hurry along – even Kevin, who seems to recognise the danger that they're in despite not actually knowing all of it – and eventually they can see daylight up ahead, filtering in through a narrow metal grille. Unlatching it – which can only be done from the inside – they're able to step forward into the hot desert sun.

Once they're out, and the way back is closed off, they all pause; the full extent of the situation finally setting in.

"…Where exactly are we?" Kevin asks.

"In the desert," Carlos replies.

"…I got that. I meant specifically."

"Way out in the desert."

"Carlos!"

"Kevin! Just let me think a moment!"

Kevin pouts at him. Tomas is still looking horribly conflicted.

"…We're out in the middle of nowhere, aren't we?" his twin says, finally.

"Yes," Carlos replies. "We are out in the middle of nowhere, away from the road, with no car. It was either that, or deal with the nice men who have been chasing us all morning. The nice men from the science division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency. Why did Bill say they had the Strex look?"

Tomas now seems a little guilty and doesn't answer.

"Tomas! Is the science division in league with Strexcorp?"

"…Maybe…" Tomas admits, after a long moment. "Not nationally. Just here. Just… you know. That place they have out to the west. With the energy readings. The science division has operated it for years, so they could study the two towns, and then a while back Strexcorp came along and wanted to do some collaborative stuff and they basically agreed to fund everything in return."

"So… what, I'm working for Strexcorp now?!" Carlos exclaims, horrified.

"No, no, you're working for the science division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency," Tomas insists. " _They're_ working for Strexcorp. Well, with Strexcorp. You _really_ should have come to more of the staff meetings."

"…Look," Kevin cuts in, before Carlos can respond, "are we going to sit out here in the desert and argue all afternoon?"

"Do you _have_ an alternative?" Carlos asks.

Kevin puts his hands on his hips and seems to be fighting the urge to glower. "Actually, yes, I do. And much as I would quite like to be stuck here in the desert all day with you both and then it would get to night-time and the three of us would have to snuggle for warmth and… where was I?"

"You were explaining how you had a solution to our current predicament that didn't involve this turning into a hideous teen movie," Tomas replies.

"Yes, yes, right. I can just get someone to come pick us up."

"Uh… we're in the middle of the desert," Carlos points out. "Miles from anywhere. Certainly miles from the nearest road. We're going to be hard enough to find, let alone get to."

Kevin smiles in that way he does when he's winning. "By car, very true. But not by helicopter."

This takes Carlos by surprise, even though he knows it shouldn't by now. "You're going to get someone to come in a _helicopter?_ " he exclaims.

"Yep," Kevin tells him.

"Who do you know that has a _helicopter?_ "

Kevin shrugs. "Friend of mine in Strex middle-management."

"…Wait, we're running away from Strexcorp and now you want to ask one of them to come _get_ us?! Have you lost your mind?"

"…Actually he's got a point," Tomas says. "The guys after us may be Strex-funded but they're really working for the government. So we'd probably be safe with a regular Strex person."

"I cannot believe you just used the words 'safe' and 'Strex' in the same sentence," Carlos mutters. "Fine. Fine. But if we end up in a dark and windowless room by teatime, I want it on record that this is all your fault. Both of your faults."

"Oh, Carlos, it will be completely OK," Kevin insists. "Now… I need a phone…"

He puts his hands in his pockets and pulls out one… no, two identical phones. "…Is Cecil carrying both his and mine around?"

"Yes," Carlos replies.

"Why?"

"He thought it would be helpful! He's considerate like that."

Kevin gives him an odd little look, works out which phone is which, and slips Cecil's away again, before flicking through his own. "All right, here goes," he says, and makes the call, putting the phone on speaker so Carlos and Tomas can listen in.

There's a few seconds of ringing, and then, "…Hello? Kevin? Is that you?" It's a female voice, which surprises Carlos a little.

"Hey," Kevin replies. "Yes, it's me. As far as I can tell, at least."

"What happened to you? The radio station's saying you're sick but I never bought that, and there were some guys round at HQ last night, looking for you. What in the name of H'ygragagogoth did you do this time?"

"Hey, I resent that!" Kevin protests. "I've been completely sensible and sedate for weeks now!"

"Clearly you were working up to something big. I'm guessing you're not calling to carry on our game of trans-dimensional checkers?"

"Sadly not at the moment. I could use some help, actually."

"I've been saying as much for years, darling. What can I do you for?"

"I need a lift. Well. _We_ need a lift."

"Ooooh, that sounds promising. You want me to bring one of the choppers?"

"That'd be magic," Kevin tells her, brightly. "You're too good to me."

"Anytime. I'll be there as soon as possible. Just sit tight and don't use any summonings unless you have to. You know the pilots don't like landing when there's extra-planars around."

"I'll do my best. See you soon!"

As the call ends, Carlos finds himself staring a little. "…And that was?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Naomi. That was Naomi. Strex middle-management. Super-nice. We've been friends for years."

"…That alone worries me," Carlos mutters.

"Oh, there's no need for alarm," Kevin insists. "Seriously, just because a person works for Strexcorp, it doesn't make them evil!"

"…It kinda does!"

"Carlos, _I_ technically work for Strexcorp!"

"And my case rests!"

"…For the love of Edison, would you two just get a room already?!" Tomas exclaims, making them both fall silent. Kevin looks a little too delighted, whereas Carlos is confident he himself is blushing and wishes he wasn't.

"…Wait a second," he says, glad to have thought of a sensible point in the midst of all this insanity. "How is this Naomi going to find us? You didn't tell her where we even are!"

"Oh, Carlos, Carlos, this is Strexcorp we're talking about! They always know where I am."

"Forgive me for not being anything other than alarmed by that."

Kevin puts a solemn hand on Carlos' shoulder. "You are forgiven."

Carlos bats him off, trying not to glower too much in case Tomas comments again. "Now what?" he asks, instead, hoping some kind of focus will prevent this getting any worse.

"Now?" Kevin says. "Now, we wait. And hope the nice government agents you upset don't find us first."

"And what do we do if you turn back into Cecil whilst we're waiting for your Strex friend to come allegedly rescue us?" Carlos has to ask.

"Oh, good point," Kevin replies. "Just tell her I send my regards to Ozhen'ipleth. She'll know what that means."

"…I don't know if I can even pronounce it."

Kevin gives a little handwave. "It's easy! I mean, I'm really not an expert in Ancient Babylonian – I only know a handful of phrases and one or two simple chants – but the pronunciation's a doddle! Ozhen'ipleth. _Ozhen'ipleth_."

"Saying the name over and over is not going to help," Carlos points out. "And I'm concerned you might summon it."

"…That's not how you summon Ozhen'ipleth," Tomas says, apparently before he can stop himself.

Kevin looks suddenly delighted again. Carlos looks horrified. "I don't even want to know how you know that," he manages.

How fast do helicopters travel? Because this is already turning into a long wait…

***

It's close to an hour before the sound of helicopter blades cuts through the desert air.

It's been a very long hour. They've spent it sitting in the shelter of an outcrop of rocks, a little way from the tunnel out of the seismic monitoring station, and though there's been no sign of their government-pursuers, Carlos has spent the whole time worrying. Well. Worrying and trying not to get drawn into conversation with Kevin, who seems particularly in favour of winding him up today.

Maybe it's because Tomas is around as well. For some reason, Kevin seems a lot less inclined to try winding _him_ up, though he does keep glancing over at him when he thinks Tomas isn't looking.

Eventually, the helicopter – the _yellow_ helicopter – roars into view across the desert. It circles around a little and then slowly moves in towards the ground, landing with a soft thud in a whirl of sand, blades gradually coming to a halt. The side door slides open and a woman steps out, walking towards them. Slender and elegant, with long, blonde hair that's been elaborately tied back, she's wearing a sharp, black business suit with a Strexcorp pin badge on her left lapel. She gives Kevin a bright wave as she gets closer, though as she gets closer still her expression breaks into one of surprise at the matching scientists she's also faced with.

"Merciless H'ygragagogoth, Kevin, what _have_ you gotten yourself into this time?" she exclaims. "And why do you have science twins with you?"

"Long story," Kevin tells her. "I'll explain once we're in the air. I don't think we should linger here. Your pilot's trustworthy?"

"Owes me his life!" Naomi answers. "And I don't think it's a debt he wants me to collect on any time soon."

"I can imagine!" Kevin says. "Oh, where are my manners? Introductions! Naomi, this is Carlos, and this is Tomas. They're scientists. They're also twins."

"So I see," Naomi replies, with a wicked little look. "You definitely outdid yourself this time, Kevin."

"Can we please focus?!" Carlos cuts in, before the two of them can get any worse. "Seriously, is there something in the water over in Desert Bluffs?"

"Oh, heck, plenty," Tomas says. "It took me weeks to acclimatise. You don't even want to know what the dreams were like."

"If you only had the dreams, you did better than most," Naomi points out, which makes Carlos shudder a little. "Well, come along, this helicopter isn't exactly inconspicuous."

"Is _anything_ Strexcorp does inconspicuous?" Carlos has to ask.

Naomi just smiles, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Smoke and mirrors," she says, coolly. "Smoke and mirrors."

Carlos shudders more and – perhaps wisely – decides not to ask anything else.

They head over to the helicopter, climbing in one by one. Naomi gets in last, shutting the door before saying, "OK, where to?"

Carlos and Tomas exchange a look. "We have to go out there," Carlos says, knowing that Tomas will understand what he means. "We have to go to their lab. It's the only way to find a permanent solution to this insanity."

"I know," Tomas replies. "But we can't just walk in the front door and–"

"Slow down," Naomi interrupts. "Maybe you'd better explain."

"Look, long story short?" Kevin says, before Carlos can try to do this properly. "Turns out I don't have a double, I have an alternate personality, and we've been living separate lives thanks to spacetime jumps and some science stuff that I don't understand even a little bit because apparently you need a doctorate in quantum physics and a lot of string."

"…You are never going to let that go, are you?" Carlos manages to ask.

"Nope!" Kevin replies, brightly. "So Carlos had to break the spacetime link because somehow Cecil – the other me – and I ended up in the same place at the same time and it would have broken the universe if we carried on like that. So now we're flipping randomly and it's very awkward because I keep coming to and finding that Carlos has been off having fun with Cecil or getting his equally-hot twin brother involved in things and how does _anyone_ expect me to concentrate like this?!"

"I can imagine," Naomi says, understandingly. "So now..?"

"Now it turns out that Carlos and Tomas have been watching Cecil and me on behalf of the science division of a vague-yet-menacing government agency that has itself been watching us for _years_ , ever since a Russian monster that travels through mirrors made us like this in the first place. They think there might be a way to separate us without killing either of us but in order to do that we need to go to the lab belonging to the science division, whose agents have been chasing us all day and who may not be as helpful as we'd like them to be if they manage to catch up."

"…How was he able to do that entire explanation in three paragraphs?" Tomas mutters to Carlos. "It usually takes us ages!"

"We're _scientists_ ," Carlos reminds him. "We do it in more depth."

"And with more worrying in your case," Tomas adds.

"That is rich coming from the man who wouldn't even _talk_ to the guy he was watching in case he accidentally fell head-over-heels in love and–"

"–Now _that's_ the pot calling the kettle black…"

"…Uh, guys?" Kevin interjects. "You're adorable when you're like this – I mean, seriously adorable – but can we focus? You know, because of the very obvious helicopter?"

Suddenly there are a lot of things not being said and a lot of eyes not being met.

"Kevin, how do you manage to be this fun?" Naomi asks, brightly. "And how is it that you and I have never dated?"

"Because we're both gay as rainbows, Naomi, and because the last time someone hit on you, your girlfriend set his house on fire and made him grow four extra ears. And he's still in therapy for the visions."

Naomi laughs. "Yeah. That's probably a good reason. Several good reasons. Well! I'm guessing this is the point where you announce that you want me to fly you over to this secret government science lab and somehow help you get into it without being killed or worse?"

"…That'd be awesome, thanks."

"You're lucky I like you," Naomi says, but she's still grinning. She leans over and mutters something to the pilot, before settling back in her seat. "Hold tight," she tells them.

"How do you even know where we're going?" Tomas asks.

Naomi shrugs. "How many secret science facilities do you think there _are_ out in this desert?"

"Judging by the general state of affairs in this part of the world, probably loads!" Tomas exclaims.

"Well, true. But let's face it, you want the one doing doppelganger research, right?"

They all stare at her.

"…How do you..?" Carlos starts out, but Naomi just gives a little wave.

Naomi shrugs again. "Logical assumption. I know Strexcorp was subsidising some research station so we could tag on a few… aha… experiments of our own. I'll admit I didn't know it was a government station, though. H'ygragagogoth knows how they got _that_ little deal set up."

"…Well… yes. Yes. That," Kevin manages. "There. Take us there."

"Already on it," Naomi says, grinning once more, as the helicopter lifts off into the late afternoon sunlight.

They travel in silence for a few moments – the desert rushing past down below – and then Carlos realises there's something crucial they've missed.

"Kevin," he says, which makes the man look over at him in surprise. "That night when you and Cecil met in the desert… why were you there?"

"Oh," Kevin replies, "I didn't even think about that. I got this weird text during the day… just a set of coordinates – to the place where we met – and the words _'midnight tonight.'_ I was sort of intrigued so I decided to go check it out and… well, you know the rest."

"The same thing happened to Cecil," Carlos says. "He got a text just like that. Couldn't stop thinking about it all evening. In the end, we went out just to see what was going on."

"So… who sent the texts?" Tomas asks. "Did Cecil recognise the number?"

"No," Carlos answers. "It was blocked. Kevin?"

"The same," he replies.

Carlos shivers a little. "…So who sent it?"

"That's a good question," Tomas agrees. "Because whoever it was… they wanted this to happen. Wanted the two of them to meet. Probably wanted you to cut the spacetime link as well."

"…Does anyone else think the scientists from the vague-yet-menacing government agency might be messing with us?" Kevin asks.

"The thought had crossed my mind, yes," Carlos answers, dryly. "But for what purpose?"

"Science?" Tomas suggests.

"I fear so," Carlos agrees. "I fear so."

***

It's a sobering thought. The rest of the trip is pretty much quiet – as far as things can be quiet when you're travelling by helicopter – and eventually, as the sun starts to set, they spot a low, concrete building on the horizon, surrounded by a high metal fence.

It's been a very, very long time since Carlos was last out here, and he's not at all pleased about having to see the place again. His only hope is that it might somehow be the final time he has to do it… in a way that doesn't end with any horrible deaths.

"How do you want to play this?" Naomi asks. "Shall I get the pilot to land on the roof so you can storm the place, or do you want to try talking your way in?"

"I was hoping for something a little safer," Carlos admits. "Something like…–"

He doesn't get any further, though, because – at that moment – Kevin suddenly drops forward, instantly passing out.

"Oh _no_ ," Carlos exclaims, then feels immediately guilty because he knows full-well that, when the man wakes up, he'll be Cecil again, and he ought to be pleased about that. But it does mean he's going to have a lot to explain all at once, and this really isn't the best place to do it.

The mental transition only takes a moment, and soon Cecil lifts his head, blinking around in confusion for a second and then apparently realising where he is.

"…Carlos?!" he exclaims, eyes a little wide with shock. "Carlos, are we in a _helicopter_?!"

Carlos reaches forward to grip his hand. "It's all right," he promises at once. "It was deliberate."

This doesn't help as much as he'd hoped. " _Deliberate_?!" Cecil repeats. "Who does it belong to?"

"Ah… see, well, that's the thing…" Carlos starts out, more than aware of how Cecil is going to react when he answers. "…It…" He clears his throat a little nervously. "…It belongs to Strexcorp."

" _What_?!" Cecil exclaims, clearly horrified. "But… Carlos, they're _evil_!"

"Er… sitting right here?" Naomi interjects, with a wave.

"Cecil, please, let me explain," Carlos implores. "This is Naomi. She's a friend of Kevin's and – yes, OK – she works for Strexcorp. It was Naomi who brought the helicopter. To rescue us."

"…Rescue us?" Cecil repeats. He doesn't look any calmer, though his voice has at least returned to its usual pitch.

"Yes. We were down in the seismic monitoring station, and those guys who were chasing us caught up. We had to escape out of one of the side tunnels and we ended up in the middle of the desert. So… Kevin called Naomi, and she came to get us."

"…In a Strexcorp helicopter?!"

"You're welcome," Naomi cuts in, brightly. "So you're Cecil? I've heard a lot about you. You're a person of interest to Strexcorp, although the whole alternate-personality thing must be way above my paygrade."

"Because _that_ makes me feel _better_!" Cecil exclaims.

Naomi shrugs. "It should. If I had sinister intentions, Cecil, believe me, you'd know. I'm not here on official business. I'm here because Kevin is a friend and he asked for my help."

"…And what do you expect in return?"

"I expect nothing in return. This is what friends _do_. Contrary to the regular, _subversive_ reports you insist on broadcasting, Strexcorp is not, actually, pure evil."

Cecil does not look remotely convinced by any of this. "Just mostly evil, then."

Naomi smiles. "Yes. Just mostly evil. Hey, it's a valid business model, don't knock it. The point is that, contrary to your misguided paranoia, I'm not actually here for any nefarious purpose. I'm here to help. And also partly because I cannot _stand_ those government guys and I would just _love_ the chance to set something pan-dimensional and non-Euclidean on them and… well. You know."

"…I'd rather not think about it," Cecil replies. He looks at Carlos, eyes silently imploring him to somehow make all of this make sense. "…Where are we going?"

Carlos takes a deep breath. "We're going to the facility belonging to the science division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency."

" _What?!_ I thought you said it would be a bad idea to go anywhere near the place?"

"It is a bad idea," Carlos admits. "It's just less bad than any of the alternatives now. If we want to work out how to put a stop to all of this… that's where the answers will be."

"He's right," Tomas chips in, having listened to this exchange with an odd expression on his face. "If we can look at their research – and work out what else they're doing here – we'll stand a better chance of resolving all this."

It's reassuring to know that Tomas is thinking the same thing, though Carlos isn't going to admit that out loud.

"I have a theory," he says, instead. "I don't know if it will work, but… Well. We know… we _suspect_ … that this place has something to do with the relationship between Night Vale and Desert Bluffs. With… the doppelgangers."

"…With the sandstorms," Cecil says, softly.

"Yes. That sandstorm duplicated everyone – OK, almost everyone – in town, and… that's what happened over in Desert Bluffs, right?"

"That's right," Tomas replies. "Pretty much everyone was duplicated. Officially, they all spent the day laughing and frolicking, but the truth of the matter is… the streets were _bloody_ when the sands lifted."

"Aren't they always like that?" Cecil asks.

"Oh yes," Tomas says, far too calmly. "And a normal amount of blood… you learn to get used to it. It's sort of pretty, in a way. But after the sandstorm… there was more. _Way_ more."

Cecil shudders. Carlos grips his hand, partly in response, and partly because he needs the contact too.

"But, see, here's the interesting part," Carlos goes on, trying to stay focused. "The part people often miss. The unexpected swapout between you and Kevin made everyone aware that they might have doubles over in Desert Bluffs. Mirrors. Counterparts. But what people forget is that those aren't the same as doppelgangers. The doubles are physically identical and fulfil the same social role… but they aren't the same. They don't even sound the same. What's going on _there_ … we can't even begin to fathom, but from what our handlers in the science division of the vague-yet-menacing government agency would reveal… ancient magics and physics-defying science is only the half of it. Still with me?"

"…I think so," Cecil replies.

"OK. Good. So. The sandstorm created doppelgangers. The doppelgangers weren't just physically identical, they were mentally identical too. That's why we can't tell if the people who are left are the original, or the doppelganger. As far as I can tell, most of them don't know either. The sandstorm wasn't natural. It was the government agency. And Strexcorp."

"A rumour I can neither confirm nor deny," Naomi cuts in, coolly.

"…Right," Carlos concedes. "So. Leaving aside any discussions of responsibility, blame, or moral obligation… the sandstorm was cover for an experiment in duplication. This facility has within it some method of duplicating a living person."

Cecil's expression lights up at that, and it's clear he finally realises what Carlos is trying to say. "…So you want to duplicate _me?_ " he asks.

Carlos nods. "Yes. If we can duplicate you… we might also be able to split you. There's obviously a psychological element to the process too – that's how… you know, whoever did this… that's how they made all the doppelgangers start fighting. All we need to do is work out some way of shifting your conscious personalities – plural deliberate – into one body each."

Cecil stares. "You can do that?"

"With science. Very careful science, to make sure it is actually you, and not a duplicate of you. In both cases."

" _Very_ careful science," Tomas echoes. "But… entirely possible."

"All right," Cecil says. "So… we need to get into that facility, then?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Good question," Carlos replies. He looks at Tomas. "What the security like these days?"

"Same as ever," Tomas tells him. "Only one gateway in the fence, guarded all the time. Less restrictive inside, though… the difficult part is getting in through the checkpoint. If we could do that, the rest should be less of an issue."

"Can't you just walk up and… I don't know, flash your ID or something?" Carlos now asks.

"Wow, you really _haven't_ been out here in a long time, have you?" Tomas says. "They don't just let me wander around. If I turn up and ask to be let in, they'll notify the project lead and they'll send at least a couple of security guys. And – unless you're planning to drag them into a closet, bash them on the head and steal their uniforms – that isn't going to be a good thing. And, incidentally, if you _are_ planning to drag them into a closet, bash them on the head and steal their uniforms, you're on your own because I tried that once and it ended badly."

Carlos decides he doesn't want to know, and opts not to ask.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Naomi cuts in, smoothly.

They all look over at her.

"You need a diversion so you can get in through the main gate," she says. "After that, as Tomas says, things will be easier. So. We'll put down close by, and you all get out and make your way to the gate. By that point, I'll be there – still in the chopper – and I'll create a little diversion for you. When I do, you slip inside… and voila!"

"You make it sound so easy," Cecil says.

"It will be!" Naomi insists. "Trust me."

"You work for Strexcorp."

"You really have to get over your issues with us, Cecil. We're here to _help_."

Cecil does not look at all convinced by this. Carlos reaches to grip his hand again. "I think this is our only choice," he says.

And it is. Their only choice is to use a Strexcorp helicopter to cause a diversion so they can sneak into a secret science facility run by a shady branch of the vague-yet-menacing government agency and carry out a wholly untested scientific procedure to cause physical duplication but not mental duplication, all without ripping a hole in the spacetime continuum.

So. No pressure.

***

Cecil, Carlos and Tomas get out of the helicopter once it's landed a short distance from the entrance into the science facility.

"Surely they've already seen us?" Cecil says, dubiously.

"Of course they've already seen us," Naomi replies. "But this is a Strexcorp helicopter! They won't realise what's going on until it's too late."

From the look on Cecil's face, he's not comforted by this fact.

The three of them make their way towards an outcrop of rocks close to the entrance checkpoint, trying to stay out of sight. As they do, the helicopter circles around and moves in, though the guards at the checkpoint itself don't seem to react until the helicopter has gotten really close.

"How exactly is she..?" Cecil starts out, but then he gets his answer.

And Carlos is sure – even without the way Cecil suddenly grabs his hand in shock – that his boyfriend isn't pleased by it.

The helicopter comes in low, sideways-on to the entrance checkpoint. It doesn't land; hovering instead just above the ground, sending sand flying in all directions. As the guards move in, clearly taken aback, the door slides open, revealing Naomi standing with her hands held out and…

…oh no. Oh _no_. And _glowing_.

Carlos should have realised this was going to happen. He knows it. And now, all he can do is watch in shock.

Naomi starts to chant in a language Carlos doesn't recognise, and though she's a good distance off and standing in an active helicopter, her voice still seems to resonate across the desert, clear and ominous. Tendrils of thick, grey smoke start to spiral out of midair from all around the helicopter, snaking closer towards the checkpoint, some of them sending out sparks of lightning.

In the glow of the setting sun, it looks terrifying. Though Carlos suspects it would also look terrifying at midday.

Naomi's voice grows louder, and more resonant, and full of something that sounds like rapture. The guards, meanwhile, are starting to sound terrified.

And then, bizarrely, Carlos hears Tomas laugh a little. He stares at his twin in confused shock, and Tomas replies by gesturing at the scene of madness unfolding up ahead of them.

" _That_ is how you summon Ozhen'ipleth," the other scientist says, levelly.

Carlos decides – once again – that he doesn't want to know.

"Uh… we should maybe make a run for it?" Cecil suggests.

They do.

It isn't easy. Not now that those tendrils of smoke have started grabbing hold of the guards. Carlos does his best to ignore the screams and just keeps running, trying to stay as close to Cecil as he can.

They make it through and don't stop running – not when they can still hear Naomi chanting, along with echoes of a roar that is most assuredly anything but human – racing across the open space beyond the checkpoint and up to the central building. It has an obvious main entrance, but Tomas leads them around to a side door, which, thankfully, is not locked.

Once they're inside the building, they all pause, leaning on the wall and catching their breath.

"Oh, I didn't enjoy that," Cecil manages, voice about an octave higher than usual. "What was that thing?"

"I told you," Tomas replies. "That was Ozhen'ipleth."

"I'm still not going to ask how you know that," Carlos tells him.

"Probably for the best, little brother," Tomas agrees, patting him on the shoulder. "Probably for the best."

"Will you stop calling me that?! Three minutes and fourteen seconds does not make me 'little'!"

"…You're an expert in extra-planars too?" Cecil asks.

"I've lived in Desert Bluffs for over a year," Tomas points out.

Cecil shudders a little and apparently decides to join Carlos on the not-asking-any-more side.

"Now what?" Carlos wonders, instead. "Do you know where we need to go?"

"There's several labs dedicated to the doppelganger research," Tomas replies. "One of them also deals with… with this situation. Lab Forty-Seven. You remember it?"

Carlos nods. He remembers it.

Tomas nods too. "We should go there."

He sets off – cautiously – down the blank, grey corridor they're currently in. Carlos holds back a second, looking at Cecil.

"If this doesn't work…" he starts out, but Cecil grips his shoulders and pulls him in close.

"It will work," he insists. "I believe in you. Which means I believe in Tomas by proxy. And the two of you together… I know you can do this."

"But…" Carlos tries to say, "…if it doesn't… if…"

"…I know," Cecil replies, softly. "I know. I love you too."


	6. Lab Forty-Seven

Amazingly – either through luck or because someone is letting them – they make their way through the corridors of the secret science facility without running into anyone. Tomas insists this is normal ( _"It's late, and there aren't many night-only experiments going on,"_ he says) but Carlos isn't convinced.

Still. It's got to be better than being jumped by armed guards.

Or, indeed, better than being outside with Naomi and Ozhen'ipleth.

…Seriously, stop thinking about it.

Eventually, they reach a wide junction in the corridors – which contains a rather menacing-looking potted plant – and find themselves faced with a door bearing the number '47' on its shiny, metal nameplate.

"Here goes nothing…" Tomas mutters, and pushes the door open.

The room beyond has changed a great deal since Carlos was last here. It contains a lot of control panels and pieces of humming electrical equipment – which he could explain at length if pushed, but really doesn't want to – with a large, glowing door at the far end. It's two storeys high, so there's a stairway leading to an upper gantry and a second control room, filled with more tech.

The biggest addition to the room, though, is the huge digital map-table now dominating the centre of the lower floor. It shows the towns of Night Vale and Desert Bluffs, with this very facility highlighted as well, and a number of effect radii currently marked on it.

Exactly what they reference… Carlos also doesn't want to know. That's happening a lot at the moment, which is very unsettling for a scientist, but between the possibility of explaining the whole situation with the sandstorm and the doppelgangers, and the possibility of learning even more unwelcome truths about what happened to Cecil and Kevin… Carlos isn't sure his normal scientific curiosity can take much more.

"Masters of us all…" Cecil breathes, staring at the lab in obvious shock. "This… what _is_ this place?"

"This place is the reason you are still alive," comes a voice that makes them all look up in horror.

They're not alone. A man steps out of the upper control room and paces calmly down the metal staircase towards them. He's aged in his mid-fifties, with hair a mixture of grey and dark brown, and wearing a lab coat.

Tomas freezes. The reaction is hard to miss, and it makes Carlos worry all the more.

"…Aren't you going to introduce us, Tomas?" the newcomer says, in the kind of pleasant tone that is anything but.

"…This is Doctor Richard Peregrine," Tomas tells them. "He's the Alternates Project Lead, and a key member of the Doppelganger Project. Dr Peregrine, this is..–"

"I know who they are," Peregrine interrupts, coming to a halt nearby. "Well. I know that this is Carlos, your twin – and the Night Vale operative – and I know that the man next to him is either Cecil or Kevin, although I can't yet be sure which."

"Cecil," the man himself says, taking a defensive step in front of Carlos. "Right now I'm Cecil."

Peregrine smiles. "Wonderful. I imagine that will make this easier. Kevin is so much more… high-spirited. Easily distracted."

"Tell me about it," Carlos mutters.

"Why are you all here?" Peregrine now asks. "You realise I can't allow it?"

Carlos only has one card left up his sleeve now, and he has to play it. And hope that Peregrine isn't holding the ace. "…But you're the reason for it," he insists, firmly.

Peregrine headtilts, like a bird of prey considering where to bite next. "How so?"

"You sent those texts."

This gets him the faintest smile. "Yes," Peregrine replies. "I did. I'm confident your accusation is based predominately on guesswork, but it's impressive and more than a little daring, so I see no reason to lie. Yes. I sent the texts."

"Why?"

"Honestly?" the older man asks. "The Alternates Project was due to be terminated. We've spent years studying Cecil and Kevin, but the truth of the matter is… our interests now lie elsewhere. But I so wanted to know what would happen if the two of them were able to meet – in a place that didn't possess the ability to phase itself out of reality in order to cope – so I orchestrated the whole thing. Part of me hoped it might rip a hole in spacetime. I haven't seen a natural one of those in _years_ and they are just _so_ fascinating. But I miscalculated. I forgot to factor in one key variable."

"Which is?" Carlos asks.

"Which is you," Peregrine tells him. "You and Tomas were _supposed_ to keep your distance from your relative subjects. I neglected to factor in your wholly-unapproved relationship with Cecil. Neglected to factor in the possibility that you'd be right there with him when he ran into Kevin. Neglected to factor in the probability that you'd risk breaking the spacetime link in order to save the fabric of reality… and the man you love. And when we realised that you had absconded with the subjects… we had to come after you. My colleagues over in the Doppelganger Project – which you're going to want to ask questions about but please, I'm warning you, _don't_ – started reporting a considerable imbalance between the two towns. We realised that terminating the Alternates Project had caused side-effects of its own and that we would need to put things back the way they were… but when our team came to pick you up, you _ran_."

"Of course we ran!" Cecil exclaims. "Your people chased us!"

"You didn't even give them a _chance_ to explain."

"They were creeping up on my apartment!" Carlos says. "That's not the kind of person you calmly ask for an explanation!"

Peregrine sighs. "Well. At any rate, you ran, and we have spent all afternoon trying to track you down. Apparently we didn't need to make the effort, because here you are. I assume the woman in the Strexcorp helicopter is with you?"

" _Kevin_ ," Carlos insists. "She's with Kevin."

"She summoned a high-level demonic entity right in front of our gates," Peregrine points out, flatly. "Three of our security personnel have ceased to exist and two more have gone completely insane and fled into the sand wastes. Do you know how hard it is to recruit decent guards?"

"With the economy the way it is, I would have thought it was pretty easy," Cecil mutters.

Doctor Peregrine glowers at him. "Either way, it wasn't helpful. And I don't think Strexcorp are going to be very pleased when they find out."

"Honestly, I doubt they're going to care," Tomas replies, levelly. "This sort of thing is everyday for them."

Peregrine headtilts again. "You do know they're working with us, right?"

"Of course I do," Tomas throws back. "They're funding the Doppelganger Project, about which we are not allowed to ask, but which we know involves experimentation in duplication. And that's the only part we're interested in."

"Duplication?" Peregrine repeats, smoothly.

"Duplication," Tomas also repeats. "You and your friends from Strexcorp orchestrate sandstorms, and during the Doppelganger Storm you duplicated everyone in both of the towns. And much as I'm sure we'd all like to know why, and for what sinister purpose, and when you plan to do it again, and how we can stop you, right now we're only interested in one thing."

"And that is?"

"We want to use the same technology to duplicate Cecil and Kevin's one body."

Peregrine folds his arms and smiles. "You want to split them?"

"We want to split them," Tomas replies, firmly.

"Well, well. You're ambitious, I'll give you that."

"Would it work?" Cecil asks.

"It might," Peregrine replies. "We never tried it before because of the risks – and because the opportunity to study the two of you was too good to pass up – but now, given that the project is closing anyway… we could attempt it."

He gestures deeper into the lab, towards the glowing door at the far end.

"That, gentlemen, is a Type-Four Trans-dimensional Energy Chamber. This was what powered the temporal and locational flips between Cecil and Kevin, until the link was severed. Exposure to the energy currently flowing through there – coupled with some _very_ complex algorithms developed by yours truly – would allow us to re-establish that link. Theoretically, at least."

"But we don't want to re-establish the link," Carlos points out.

"I'm getting to that," Peregrine says, a little tetchily. "This being a Type-Four chamber, we could channel other forms of energy through it instead. Like… say… energy that could _theoretically_ be used to cause duplication in a small urban population, under the cover of a freak weather event. If we were to channel _that_ sort of energy into the chamber, coupled with precisely the right psychological resonance to ensure one consciousness remained in each physical body, it would produce the effect you're looking for."

Carlos stares. "…It's as simple as that?"

"Simple?!" Peregrine exclaims. " _Simple?!_ Do you realise how many laws of physics and biology that kind of process would bend and/or violate?!"

"…Touché," Carlos concedes, though only just.

"Why would you just help us all of a sudden?" Cecil asks. "You've been controlling all of this for _years!_ "

"And, as I said, the project is due to be ended," Peregrine points out. "So, if I don't get my hole in spacetime, proving that you can be split will have to do. There is, however, a catch."

"…Of course there's a catch," Carlos says. "There's always a catch. What is it?"

"The catch is the _other_ reason we didn't try this in the first place," Peregrine replies. "You see, exposure to this kind of energy, were it being used for… say… a duplication experiment in a controlled urban population… would usually be done over a period of several months, culminating in one final, wide-spread dose. Theoretically-speaking, of course. And – theoretically-speaking – it would work by isolating each single consciousness before duplicating it, first mentally and then physically. This is why the process wouldn't work on an individual with _two_ personalities in the same head; because it would appear that the duplication had already taken place and halt the process in its tracks. So here, in order to produce the result you want – and in order to cause the correct psychological shift with full preservation of consciousness – the subject would have to enter the energy chamber directly."

"That doesn't sound safe," Cecil says.

"Oh, it isn't safe at all," Peregrine replies. "It's highly _un_ safe."

"In what sense?" Tomas asks.

"Well, under those conditions – assuming we omit the usual minor risks of complete temporal inversion, as is standard in most high-level scientific processes – the result would go one of two ways," Peregrine explains. "Either it would work as desired, duplicating the physical form and splitting the personalities, placing one in each body, or…"

"Or?" Carlos pushes.

"Or, it wouldn't work at all," Peregrine replies. "Spacetime would reject the duplication altogether, and the psychological trauma would result in the immediate death of whichever personality was active at the point of exposure."

Carlos can hardly breathe at this. "And… and the other personality?"

"The likelihood is high that they would regain consciousness," Peregrine says. "So you'd almost certainly get one of them. But there's a significant possibility of losing the other."

"…We can't take that risk," Carlos manages, the thought too awful to comprehend.

"…We have to," Cecil says, softly, looking over at him. "We can't go on like this. And if there's a chance it might work…"

"But… but… Cecil, you're conscious right now," Carlos says. "If you go in there… and it doesn't work… Cecil… you'd be the one we lost. The one I…"

His voice cracks and he can't go on. Cecil turns and grips his shoulders, ignoring the other two watching them. "We have to try," he insists, softly, eyes full of a mixture of fear and determination. "And I trust you. I know you can make this work."

"What if I can't?" Carlos whispers, heart racing. "Cecil, I… I _love_ you. I can't live without you."

Cecil takes his hands and pulls them in against his own chest. "Carlos," he says, softly, "love of my life… if I keep turning into Kevin, you won't be able to live _with_ me."

"I'd do it if it meant not losing you."

"I know. But… you can do this. _We_ can do this. Please. I… I want to try."

Carlos takes a very deep breath, and then turns back to Doctor Peregrine. "All right," he says, trying to sound more resolute than he feels. "All right. We'll do it."

"Excellent," Peregrine replies. "Let's get started."

***

It takes a good few minutes to calibrate the chamber. Carlos can follow most of what Peregrine is doing, but he knows the man is being deliberately obtuse about certain things in order to prevent him – or Tomas – from working the whole process out.

He knows he just has to accept that. Hopefully, this is not something he will ever need to be able to do again.

"All right," Peregrine says, finally. "Now all I need to do is go over to a certain other lab and channel a certain type of energy across into this chamber."

"You can't do it from here?" Cecil asks.

"No," Peregrine replies. "That whole section is heavily restricted. I've opened the energy lines on this end, so all I'll need to do is go over to the other lab and open the lines there. Once I do, I'll call you on the intercom, and you can proceed straight away."

He takes a step back. "Wait for my signal. When I tell you… hit this button to open the chamber. Cecil, once you're inside, just hit the button on that central plinth and it will flood the room with energy."

"…Will it hurt?"

Peregrine gives a soft little laugh. "No. Not at all. Though I repeat my warning that it might kill you nonetheless."

"…Thanks for that," says Carlos, numbly.

Peregrine just flashes him a look and then heads out of the lab, off towards… wherever it is he's going that they're not allowed to know about.

The silence is suddenly very awkward.

"I'll… give you a moment," Tomas says, and wanders off to the other end of the lab.

Carlos watches him go, suddenly aware that all is not right with his brother, but… still too preoccupied to question it.

He turns, instead, and wraps his arms around Cecil. His Cecil. He presses in against the other man's chest, holding on tight.

"It will be OK," Cecil tells him.

"You can't know that for sure."

"No. But I trust you. And I know… I know this is the best thing to do."

"Cecil, I… I just need you to know… you made my life _right_. All along, I'd been so fixated on one scientific conundrum or another and… and that was fine but at the same time I think I was forgetting to _live_. And then along you came and… and changed _everything_. And I… I don't know if I've ever properly thanked you for that."

"You have," Cecil whispers. "More times than I could count. But you never had to. Just having you in my life… in my heart… is more wonderful than I ever thought possible. And when all of this is over; when we go home and curl up in each other's arms… then you'll know for sure."

Carlos presses in tighter, silently imploring any scientific-or-otherwise forces that might be listening not to make this the last time he gets to do so. Not to make this the last time he gets to hold onto the man who re-wrote his whole world.

"Cecil," he whispers. "I..–"

All of a sudden there's a heavy thunk, and a series of alarms start to go off.

"What?!" Carlos exclaims, instantly hurrying to the nearest control panel and trying to work out what's happening.

Tomas is back at his side in a second, doing the same.

"No," Carlos murmurs, in between frantic button-presses. "No, no, no…"

" _Peregrine!_ " Tomas exclaims, as the truth becomes obvious. "He set us up! That's the intruder alarm and we're locked in."

"And if I'm reading this right, he hasn't channelled the duplication energy into this chamber," Carlos adds.

"But… the line itself is still open."

"Yes… why, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we can still do this, Carlos. If you can try to locate the right energy generator using… uh… that panel, I think I can stop anyone getting into this lab."

"Tomas… we're locked into it."

"Yes, but soon, the guards who _haven't_ been unmade and/or cursed by Ozhen'ipleth are going to come bursting in here, and we don't want that!"

"True enough. All right, you keep them out, and I'll… try to get this chamber powered up."

As they're talking, some of the panels lower down the room start to go dark.

"You might want to start by isolating the power supply to _this_ room!" Carlos adds, as he starts to work. "Otherwise I won't be able to do anything!"

"Already on it!" Tomas replies, hands moving frantically fast.

After a few seconds, the panels stop powering down and a couple of them flash back on.

"OK, I think I've got our power supplies isolated, and now… merciful _Edison_ , what are they doing out there..?"

A lot more clunking can be heard beyond the doors, and it doesn't sound promising.

"Work faster!" Tomas urges.

"I'm trying!" Carlos replies. "This isn't easy! I'm a scientist, not a computer hacker!"

"You did _not_ just say that!" Tomas exclaims.

"Yes, I did! I'm under a lot of pressure!"

"That's no excuse!"

"It will have to do!"

All of a sudden there's a bright flash from beyond the chamber door, followed by a series of whirring sounds.

"Oh! Oh! I think I've got it!" Carlos exclaims.

"Good, because I don't know how much longer I can stop them getting the main doors open!" Tomas replies. "If we're doing this, it has to be fast!"

Carlos turns, looking at Cecil. Realising that this is it.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," Cecil replies.

And, a mere heartbeat later, he passes out, dropping to the floor all at once.

"What?!" Carlos exclaims, renewed and frantic horror flooding through him. "Oh no, no, no, not now, merciful _Einstein_ , not now!"

"Did he flip?!" Tomas says, glancing over his shoulder.

"I think so! How long can you keep the doors locked?!"

"I don't know. Moments at most. They're also trying to cut the power again, and I don't know how long I can hold them off!"

Fighting to hold himself together, Carlos drops down at the fallen man's side, just as he blinks his eyes open.

"…Carlos?" Kevin murmurs. "I… Carlos, where are we?"

"We're in the science facility. I… Kevin… I don't have long to explain, so please… _please_ … just let me try?"

The noise in the background obviously catches the man's attention and, as Carlos helps him to his feet, he can't help asking, "…What did you do?"

"We didn't do anything!" Carlos exclaims, aware he's becoming more and more frantic by the moment. "Just listen, just… We're in the facility. Naomi got us in. The plan might work but the scientist in charge, who said he'd help us… he's betrayed us and now the vague-yet-menacing government agency's guards are trying to get in. And if they do… if they do then we'll never get another shot at this, but… look. You see this chamber? It's full of… of energy. I don't have long enough to explain it and you really can't hold that against me like the time with the string, but… if you go in there and hit the button in the centre, one of two things will happen. Either it will split you and Cecil successfully, two identical bodies, one personality in each, or… or it won't. Whichever personality is active at the time will be killed, leaving just the other one."

Kevin stares at him, clearly stunned. "And… Cecil was going to go in there?"

"Of course he was," Carlos replies. "He… wanted to fix all this. Fix you _both_ , even despite the risks. But… I guess… you won't want to do the same. Not if it might get you killed."

Kevin stares at him some more. "You don't get me at all, do you?" he says, softly.

"I'm losing control of the system!" Tomas calls. "If we're doing this, it _has_ to be now."

Kevin looks over at Tomas, and then back to Carlos. There's a flicker in his eyes that Carlos has never seen before, and it scares him a little in a way wholly unconnected to any of the _other_ ways that Kevin usually scares him. And then Kevin reaches out, grabbing hold of Carlos and pulling him in for one firm, quick kiss.

Carlos stares at him, stunned. "Tell Cecil he's a lucky man," Kevin whispers.

And then, before Carlos can even get a word out, Kevin turns and opens the door to the energy chamber, stepping inside. The door slides shut behind him, leaving just the single porthole through which Carlos can only watch in shock and horror.

In the back of his head, he can hear the pounding of tiny feet and the roar of miniature weapons' fire; a memory that will never truly fade.

Then Kevin smacks both hands down on the button in the centre of the energy chamber, and the whole world goes white.


	7. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, readers of The Eye and the Aperture are about to meet another familiar face. This time, however, he gets to have rather more fun than usual.

As reality slowly starts to re-assert, Carlos lowers the arm he's been using to shield his eyes and tries to focus on the room again. In the distance, he's vaguely aware of the sounds of the guards trying to break through the door, and the low hum of whatever electrical equipment hasn't been completely shorted out by… by…

The terror hits like a wave, and suddenly Carlos is almost falling over himself trying to close what is only a few steps' distance between himself and the energy chamber. He slams up against the door, staring in through the porthole, but the space beyond is completely filled with thick, white smoke, and he can't make out anything through it.

Tomas is at his side in seconds, gently prising him off the door and activating the controls next to it. It slides open with a hiss, sending more of that thick smoke pooling out into the lab beyond, curling through the cool air like Ozhen'ipleth's friendlier cousin.

They wait. In reality it's little more than a moment, but in Carlos' head… it feels like aeons. And then… there's movement in the smoke. Movement that resolves into a figure, walking towards them.

No. Not one figure. _Two_ figures. Well. One walking, with the other's arm over his shoulder, carrying him out.

Two men. Two identical men. Carlos feels his heart leap with hope, so hard and so sudden it makes his chest ache all over again.

"…Help me with him," says the conscious man. Cecil. It's Cecil. The relief is so intense that Carlos has to hold onto Tomas' arm for a second before he launches towards his boyfriend and…

…the other man, arm held over Cecil's shoulder and supported with a second arm around his waist. He's currently unconscious, but some uncontrollable urge makes Carlos immediately reach to check for a pulse. It's there, and strong, and the man who is surely Kevin is breathing too. Carlos moves to help Cecil support him, and between them they lay him carefully on the ground.

As soon as he's down, Carlos throws his arms around Cecil. "You're all right," he says. "You're all right! How do you feel?"

"I feel… good, I think," Cecil replies. "What happened? One moment I was preparing to go in there, and the next… the next I was waking up inside the chamber, next to… to myself!"

"You flipped," Carlos tells him. "Right as you were about to go in. So… Kevin went in instead. And I think it worked! That's… that's just incredible!"

"…Does this mean you like me now?" comes a hazy murmur from the man on the ground.

They both look down as Cecil's double blinks his eyes open, staring upwards… and then visibly jumping a little when he realises one of the people above him is himself.

"…Whoa," Kevin breathes. "OK, that is _weird_ , but… it worked?"

"Yes," Carlos says, feeling the full emotional weight of the success hit him like an avalanche. "Yes. It did. It worked. We… _wow_ , I think that's the most laws of physics I've ever broken at once!"

"You're not going to start talking about string again, are you?" Kevin asks.

Carlos doesn't deign to answer this, and he and Cecil help Kevin to his feet. Tomas is still standing a little way off, with a very guarded expression in his eyes that is just _so_ not like him at all, and Carlos makes a mental note to pin his brother down and ask what's going on. Once they're out of danger, at least.

Because they're not out of it yet.

At the far end of the room, there's a clunk, a thud, a shower of sparks, and the main door springs open. People come running in; men and women, all wearing black suits with dark purple ties, and armed with what look alarmingly like tasers.

Still. Tasers have to be better than full-blown guns, right?

In the middle of them all stands Doctor Peregrine, staring at the group near the energy chamber in obvious shock. "…You _did_ it?!" he exclaims, eyes wide.

Carlos takes a step forward, standing in front of the other three and folding his arms, trying to look as resolute and in control as possible. "We did it," he replies.

"Well, well," Peregrine says, "I must say, I'm impressed. But you have to understand that we can't let you leave. Not knowing the things you know."

"Why not?" Carlos replies. "Think about it. If we say a word, we know you'll come after us. If you come after us, only one of us needs to survive long enough to tell the whole world what you're doing here. But if you leave us be… this situation can reach a very workable equilibrium."

"Very true," Peregrine admits. "Or we could just kill you right now. That would solve all our problems on the spot."

"You could _try_ ," Kevin says, moving to the head of the group and stepping in front of Carlos. "And I must say, I do admire your determination and your professionalism. It's no wonder Strexcorp wants to work with people like you. But nonetheless, this time you're going to have to make an exception."

Peregrine puts his hands on his hips. "Or _what?_ "

Even though Carlos can't quite see Kevin's face, he can hear the smile. "Or I will curse you so hard your chakras will spin."

This makes Peregrine laugh, which means that – team leader or not – he hasn't paid enough attention to his subjects. "You?" he says, sounding unimpressed. "You're just a radio broadcaster."

Kevin laughs too, a soft little laugh that ought to make any sane man apologise and run for cover. "OK, one, don't knock my job. I _love_ my job. And two… you appear to have forgotten the part where I also have several _very_ good friends in Strexcorp. Who I also happen to work for, because let's not forget that – one way or another – _everyone_ in Desert Bluffs works for Strexcorp. Oh… and three? I don't like it when people threaten me. Or my double. Or our scientists."

And, with that ominous statement hanging in midair, Kevin holds up his hands. There's a sound at once – a sound like someone striking a very large drum down in the depths of Hell – and his palms begin to glow.

Carlos takes a step back. A large step. But he doesn't try to stop Kevin. Not when he realises that the man is – in his own alarming way – attempting to save their lives.

He takes another step back, which is when Cecil manages to pull him in, wrapping both arms around him from behind and holding on tight. At their side, Carlos can now see Tomas, staring at Kevin with the strangest look in his eyes.

Strange and… familiar. _Oh_.

Kevin starts to chant. Carlos has no idea what language he's speaking but it's beautiful to listen to. Beautiful and flatly terrifying, given that it's accompanied by a sudden flare of light in the centre of the floor, which spreads to draw out the shape of a flaming, reversed pentagram with indecipherable symbols between its five points.

"…Should we maybe run?" Cecil whispers.

"…When that thing appears, I don't want to be standing in _front_ of it," Carlos whispers back.

"…Good point."

The chanting gets more involved, more intense, more… ecstatic. That infernal drumbeat sounds a second time, just before Kevin shouts out what must be the last three words of the ritual. There's a burst of light in the centre of the burning pentagram and, in the midst of it, a figure appears: a figure eight feet tall and built like an extremely well-muscled human, albeit with a great deal of extra spikes. He has a pair of sweeping horns on his head; huge, bat-like wings folded behind him, and is wearing only a heavy, black loincloth. Every inch of his visible skin is drenched in what looks very much like blood and, in one hand, he holds a huge sword with a roughly-spiked blade and a red-eyed skull set into the pommel.

Suddenly, no one moves. No one _breathes_.

The demon turns, looking quizzically at Kevin… then at Cecil. And then back to Kevin.

"…There's two of you," he points out, in a deep and resonant voice that sounds like the collected agonies of a thousand tormented souls, albeit with a slightly flat and long-suffering edge all the same.

"Yes," Kevin replies, levelly. "There's two of me. Long story."

The demon looks over at the collection of guards and government scientists again, who cower slowly backwards. "Did you summon me for an actual reason this time?" he asks, and there's a note of hope in his voice that makes Carlos wonder what _other_ reason Kevin might have for summoning such a terrifying demonic entity.

"Oh yes," Kevin tells him, brightly. "You see all those people over there? I need them to let the four of us out of this facility. Could you maybe see to that for me?"

"Any means necessary?" the demon asks, sounding positively delighted.

"Any means necessary," Kevin replies.

The demon lets out a roar, brandishes his sword, and charges. The second he does, the guards – and Doctor Peregrine – all scatter, trying to get out of the room as rapidly as they can. All except for a couple who unfortunately decide to try tasering the demon instead.

In the grand scheme of things, this is not a good idea.

With a happy little sigh, Kevin turns to look at the other three, whilst – behind him – there are a lot of sounds that Carlos would very much like to forget and is studiously trying not to look at the source of.

"…Is that Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty?" Tomas asks, eyes wide.

"Yep," Kevin answers, looking proud of himself. "You know about Azzie?"

"…You call a _demon_ 'Azzie'?!" Carlos exclaims, aware his voice has gone a little high-pitched from the shock of all this.

Kevin shrugs. "Sure I do. I'm not certain if he likes it or not but we've been soul-bound for three years now and sometimes his full name just sounds so unnecessarily _formal_."

"…What is his full name?" Cecil apparently can't help asking.

Behind them there's an unearthly shriek and Carlos has to close his eyes for a moment.

"Merciless Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty, Seventeenth Adjunct to the Fourth Infernal Plane," Kevin tells them.

"…And you call him _Azzie_?!" Carlos manages.

"Yep," Kevin says, again. "He's fine once you get to know him. Little high-strung."

Somehow, the demon has gotten through the door and into the passageway beyond, where there are a series of screams and unpleasant crunching sounds. Carlos shudders, which makes Cecil hold onto him tighter.

"Make it stop!" comes the frantic voice of Doctor Peregrine. "Seriously! Make it stop!"

"Only if you promise to let us go and leave us alone," Kevin replies, flatly.

"Yes, yes, fine!" Peregrine insists. "Oh, this is what we get for working with damned _Strexcorp_!"

"OK, one, no, this is what you get for threatening me, my double and our scientists," Kevin points out. "And two, I would _thank_ you to stop _besmirching_ the good name of my employers!"

Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty bursts back in through the door, raises his sword above his head, and starts stalking towards Peregrine with a worrying look in his deep red eyes.

"All right, all right!" Peregrine concedes, very fast. "Just tell it to stop!"

Kevin pauses a long second before he does anything. "Azzie," he says, "stand down a second, would you?"

The demon looks a little irritated by the interruption, but does as he's told.

"Now," Kevin says, folding his arms. "You're going to let us out?"

"Yes. Yes. Fine. Just take your demon and your little friends and go. And tell the infernal woman in the helicopter that if she ever comes here again, I _will_ be filing a formal complaint with her superiors!"

"That's better," Kevin replies. "Azzie? Lead us out. Feel at liberty to respond should anyone try to interfere."

" _Gladly_ ," the demon agrees.

"Oh, and one _more_ thing," Peregrine hisses, looking at Carlos and Tomas. "You two are _so_ fired."

"You can't fire us," Tomas replies, flatly.

"And why is that?"

" _Because we quit_ ," both twins say in unison.

And Peregrine can only stare after them, lost for words, as – led by a demon – the four of them head off.

***

It's fully dark outside, though there's enough floodlights near the abandoned entrance checkpoint to illuminate the way. A short distance beyond the fence, the yellow helicopter stands on the desert ground, its side door open. Naomi is sitting idly on the edge of it, gently petting something that's curled up in her lap.

"Oh hey," she says. "I heard the screaming. I take it things went… OK, Kevin, there's two of you now."

"Yep," he replies. "This is Cecil… I think you've already met?"

"We have," Cecil says.

Naomi looks impressed. "So it worked, then? The whole science-thing?"

"It worked," Carlos answers. "Somehow… we did it." He's still having a little trouble believing how lucky they got.

"Well, bravo!" Naomi says, applauding. "One question, though. What's Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty doing here?"

"Oh, there was a teeny bit of a disagreement as to whether we could leave," Kevin tells her, offhand. "So I summoned Azzie to help out. Amazing how quickly that got things moving."

"I can imagine," Naomi replies. "Hey, Azatothoth."

The demon's expression goes very level and careful. "Ms Naomi," he says, with a respectful nod.

Carlos decides not to question it. Not when they still need the helicopter to get out of here.

Kevin turns to his demon. "You can do that vanishing thing now," he says. "Thanks for the help in there. Knew I could count on you!"

"Anytime," Azatothoth replies. "Let's try to have more days like this and less of the grocery runs, maybe?"

"I'll do my best!" Kevin promises, just before the demon gives him an unconvinced look and vanishes in a burst of unholy light.

The four of them turn back to Naomi, which is when Carlos is left with no choice but to ask the crucial question.

"Naomi?"

"Yes, darling?"

"What is that?" He points at the strange creature that's curled up on Naomi's lap. It's the size of a large cat but looks more like a cross between a gremlin and a lizard. It purrs as she strokes behind its pointy ears, but it's unlike the purring sound a regular cat would make. Even Khoshekh himself would be hard-pressed to make such an unearthly noise.

"Hm? Oh." Naomi gives a little shrug. "This is Ozhen'ipleth."

Carlos stares. He tries to give voice to the obvious question, and decides he can't. Sometimes it really is better not to ask. Even for a scientist.

"…I see," it falls to Cecil to say. "But… didn't he… she… it… unmake three guards and cause two more to go insane?"

"Yes," Naomi answers. "Yes, she did."

"I know I shouldn't ask this," Cecil goes on, "but I'm a journalist at heart and… _how_?"

"Easy," Naomi says. "This is Ozhen'ipleth in a good mood. When she's in a good mood, she's positively _adorable_. Aren't you? Aren't you, my ickle fluffy-spiky pan-dimensional menace?"

The demon makes another happy purring sound and rolls onto its back.

"But those guards made her cross. You shouldn't make Ozhen'ipleth cross. It doesn't end well."

"…So noted," Cecil manages.

"I guess you guys are going to want a lift out of here?" Naomi offers.

"If you don't mind, that'd be super-helpful," Kevin replies.

"Where to?"

"The seismic monitoring station," Carlos answers. "I left my car there."

"Come along, then," Naomi says. "Before the nice government scientists change their minds and need another little chat with Ozhen'ipleth."

They all clamber into the helicopter, which is soon lifting off into the darkness, soaring away from the science facility for – Carlos hopes – the last time. He knows he still isn't processing half of what's just happened and that, at any moment, it's all going to hit him at once. Right now, he needs to focus on them getting out of here. Away from here. On the thought that… at last… it's all over.

***

Naomi drops them off at the seismic monitoring station, then embraces Kevin warmly, gets back into her helicopter, and disappears into the night. It's something of a relief, especially as she's spent the entire journey cooing softly at Ozhen'ipleth.

But it also has its drawbacks. Having Naomi, her demon and her helicopter around did at least provide a very helpful distraction from all the conversations that aren't happening and, with her now gone, there's nothing else in the way.

The four of them stand in the dark desert, close to Carlos' car, and the silence is suddenly heavy.

"Well," Kevin says, tone ever-bright, "this has been _easily_ the most fun I've had in a long time. And at last I get to talk to you in person, face to face," he adds, looking at Cecil. "My own double. How amazing is this?"

"This… isn't the first time we've met, you know," Cecil says, apparently before he can stop himself.

 _Please don't mention Svitz_ , Carlos thinks to himself, over and over. _Please don't mention Svitz_.

"Oh, you mean the vortex?" Kevin replies, blissfully – mercifully – still oblivious. "I guess that should count, although it was only for a moment and you did look _very_ alarmed to see me."

"I'd just been to Desert Bluffs for the first time!" Cecil exclaims. "I was in shock!"

"Shock? It's lovely!" Kevin insists. "You should come back someday. We could totally do coffee and swap stories about our lives."

"…Is it still drenched in blood?"

"Naturally!"

"I'll pass."

"…Look," Kevin goes on, after an awkward little pause that is just _so_ not like him. "Before we all go our separate ways… Cecil, could we talk? Even just for a minute? Please?"

Cecil looks somewhat surprised by this, but he nods. "All right."

"I need to go back down into the monitoring station anyway," Carlos chips in. "I ought to make sure Bill is a) still alive and b) not surrounded by bodies. Tomas, you should come with me. For backup."

And totally not because _I_ need to talk to _you_.

"Sure thing," Tomas agrees. His tone is much more chipper again; much more like his usual self, although Carlos isn't fooled.

"We won't be long," Carlos says to Cecil.

And off they go.

***

When Carlos and Tomas have disappeared back into the seismic monitoring station, Cecil looks at Kevin again. This is just… weird. He doesn't know what to say to the man, partly because they've technically only just met, and partly because he's still sure that Kevin knows it all already.

They were the same person, and now they're not, only they also never were, not _really_ , and…

It's weird.

Kevin headtilts over at an outcrop of rocks on the edge of the little car park, and they wander over, sitting down side by side and staring up at the sky.

"This is weird," Cecil manages.

"I know," Kevin replies. "Ever since the sandstorm, I've wanted to meet you properly and then I find out that… that I _am_ you. Well, sort of. I… you're right. It _is_ weird."

"You're… not like I expected. Or… or the way Carlos described you."

Kevin smiles almost wryly. "Well, I'm probably still in shock," he says. "Give me a little while and I'm sure I'll be back to my usual self. Right now… I guess I just feel sort of introspective. You and I, we're… we _were_ … the same person. We came from the same place in your head. Only… we're also kinda completely different."

"I'm not so sure," Cecil says. "I mean, OK, yes, superficially we're completely different. You think Strexcorp is a great thing and summon demons for fun, and I want Strexcorp out of my town and gave up summoning demons a _long_ time ago because it was _bad_ for my chakras."

Kevin stares. "…You used to summon demons?"

"Only in my wild youth," Cecil insists. Which is true. Apart from those couple of times when… OK, no, not admitting to that. "But deeper down," he goes on, hastily, "we're… more alike than I might have wanted to admit at first. And we both apparently have more than a slight thing for scientists…"

This makes Kevin give a wistful little sigh. "Yeah."

"…You are going to have to stop hitting on my boyfriend, though."

"I know. But I probably still will."

"Although," and here Cecil wonders how much he should say, "how come you and Tomas aren't…?"

"I only met him this afternoon," Kevin reminds him, softly. "All this time… he's kept away from me."

This makes Cecil's chest ache a little. He remembers what Carlos said about trying to keep his distance to start off with, and realises that Tomas has done the same thing. Except, of course, that Tomas succeeded.

"Maybe you should try inviting him for coffee," Cecil suggests. "I mean, I did that with Carlos way back and OK, at the time I thought it hadn't worked at all but… I guess it must have helped in the long run. And… forgive me, but you don't seem like the sort to be shy about this kind of thing."

"Oh, I'm not," Kevin agrees. "And I'd ask him, but… you know, for once in my life I am genuinely scared of messing it up. How weird is that?"

"It isn't weird at all," Cecil replies. "It's because you know how much it matters. Because… because you know it isn't some idle crush."

"But… we only just met. And I've spent all this time hitting on his twin brother! And yet he… I…"

"…You fell in love instantly?" Cecil asks, softly.

"…Yeah," Kevin replies, looking down at the ground for a moment. "I think maybe I did."

"I told you we had more in common than you might first realise."

Kevin glances at him, eyes suddenly full of hope, before staring up at the sky once more. They sit in silence for a few moments, neither one speaking. Perhaps neither one even needing to speak.

"Cecil," Kevin says, eventually, "can I ask you a question?" There's an almost cagey edge to his tone now, which makes Cecil wonder what it's going to be.

"Of course."

"You… you remember Svitz, right?"

For a long moment, Cecil can't get a word out. From what Carlos had said, they've both been so sure that Kevin _doesn't_ remember Svitz.

"I… uh… yes. Yes. I do," he manages, finally.

"I didn't before," Kevin says. "But the moment I saw you, when I woke up after being in that energy chamber… it was like the memory just popped back into my head, and I remembered. I remembered…"

Amazingly, he trails off at this and looks down again and, though it's hard to tell in the moonlight, Cecil is sure his double is actually blushing.

"…Apparently we nearly destroyed the universe," Cecil tells him. "Carlos says if it had happened anywhere but Svitz, it would have ripped spacetime apart. But Svitz just stopped existing – with us still inside – to protect reality from the damage."

"So… wait, Carlos _knows_?"

"Oh yes. He's been scared you were going to mention it sooner or later but had come to the conclusion that you didn't remember any of it. Which looks to have been right, at least until we were split. So you… you _do_ remember it now?"

"Hazily, but… yes. I remember the cabin, and that hill, and… I remember a lot of time spent down in that valley with all the blue flowers and…"

Kevin shivers happily and looks back up at the stars and, though it seems wistful, Cecil is sure the other man is avoiding meeting his eyes at the same time.

"It was… good," he says, finally.

"Yeah," Cecil has to agree, even though it's still _so_ weird. "Yeah, it was good."

"We could… you know. Sometime."

"No, Kevin."

"…OK. You can't fault a guy for asking."


	8. The Lights

When Carlos finally returns from the seismic monitoring station – a tellingly-quiet Tomas at his side – he steps out into the moonlight, looking around for his boyfriend, and spots him after only a second. Cecil is a little way off, at the edge of the small car park, sitting on an outcrop of rocks with Kevin at his side.

Both of them. Alive. Split. Separate. Carlos still can't believe his luck. He also can't quite believe that the two men seem to be getting on, given a) what Kevin is like and b) how alarmed Cecil has been by the concept of him since the very beginning.

And yet. And yet. Here they are, side by side in the moonlight, quiet and still.

They turn as they hear movement behind them, rising to their feet and moving closer as the scientists emerge.

"Everything OK down there?" Cecil asks.

"Better than you might expect," Carlos replies. "Bill's fine, and he wasn't surrounded by bodies, although he did have three of those government scientists locked in one of the labs and was trying to prove that high-frequency doses of billennium radiation can produce a hypnotic effect."

"…'billennium' radiation?" Cecil repeats, staring.

"Yeah, he discovered it a few months back. Named it after himself."

"…why does a seismic monitoring station have a radiation lab?" Kevin asks, also staring.

"So we can do research on radiation. Though…I worry that _those_ are the first questions that story provoked," Carlos remarks. "Well. Needless to say, no, the radiation _doesn't_ produce a hypnotic effect, but yes, it may have something to do with the fact that they've all grown a third arm. But it'll wear off in a few days, they'll be fine," he adds, seeing the way both Cecil and Kevin are still staring at him.

In the distance, there's the sound of sirens.

"…Is that the Secret Police?" Cecil asks, worriedly.

"Hm? No, no, that'll be the ambulances."

"…For the guys with three arms?"

"Yes."

"You said they'll be fine!"

"And they will!" Carlos insists. "Honest! And Bill promised he won't do it again."

"Well, that's a relief!"

"…We should maybe go," Tomas suggests. "Much as the three-armed guys aren't our fault, I don't think we want to be spending all night answering awkward questions for the paramedics. I know what the Night Vale Medical Board is like."

Carlos is about to protest but then he remembers that the man has a point, and opts to concede this one.

"Also my car is still out in the middle of the desert," Kevin adds, "and you promised you'd take me back for it eventually."

Ah. Yes. Carlos realises he should probably do that now. "Come on, then," he says, gesturing to his own car. "Everyone in."

"Shotgun!" Tomas declares, at once.

Carlos shoots him a look, but decides he'd better not argue.

Not in front of Kevin.

***

It takes them a while to drive all the way around to that point in the desert where all of this – sort of – began. The lights of Night Vale are dim and distant this far out, though the moonlight casts weird shadows on the ground, making everything look strange and ethereal.

Kevin's car sits amidst it all, silent and still, just as it was two nights ago. Carlos has been vaguely concerned on the drive over that the government scientists might have absconded with it at some point, for nefarious purposes, but thankfully they haven't.

Besides, he's had other things on his mind. Like the way Tomas has been quiet the whole time – Carlos doesn't think Tomas has _ever_ been quiet for that long at once before – or the way Cecil and Kevin seem to be getting along worryingly well.

"I guess this is it," Kevin says, as they all step out. "This has been… kinda amazing, if sort of terrifying as well. Although, you know, if you want to do it again sometime, I'm game."

"…I do worry about you," Cecil says to him.

"Thanks!" Kevin replies, brightly. He, certainly, seems to be getting back to his old self, though Carlos isn't sure how much this constitutes a _good_ thing. "I'm so glad we finally got to meet. And, you know, now we're separate people we can totally do coffee sometime. Platonic coffee," he adds, although there's a look in his eyes that makes Carlos wonder if he…

…no. No. Surely not..?

"You need a ride back to Desert Bluffs?" Kevin now says, looking hopefully at Tomas.

"Uh… yeah, sure, that'd be great," Tomas replies, which makes Kevin beam at him.

"Awesome!" Kevin exclaims. "Well, you two better keep in touch. My double and his beautiful scientist boyfriend… oh, this is going to make a _great_ story for my show on Monday! I do love having _feature_ news."

"…See you later, Kevin," Carlos manages.

Kevin beams again. "See you later!"

And off they go.

And, finally… Carlos and Cecil are alone. Carlos can't wait another minute. He grabs hold of his boyfriend and kisses him hard; seemingly hours of pent-up relief breaking like a wave all at once.

He's alive. He's _OK_.

It's all right.

"Take me home," Carlos breathes, in between kisses. "Please, Cecil. Take me home."

"Gladly," his boyfriend replies. "Although… we got here in your car. So, technically… you're taking _me_ home."

Carlos pauses a second, stares, and then just grins. "Semantics," he concedes. "Either way. Home. We should go there."

Cecil pushes him gently back against the car, sending a sudden thrill of anticipation running through Carlos, which doubles as Cecil leans in and asks, "…You can wait until we get home?"

The answer to this, it turns out, is an emphatic _no_.

***

Kevin gets a lot of strange looks when he turns up at work on Monday morning, but at the same time everyone seems pleased to see him. There's a large fruit basket waiting on his desk, along with a card reading, _'Haven't had that much fun in months. Call me anytime if you fancy taking on any more vague-yet-menacing government agencies. Lots of love, Naomi. PS: Say hi to Azatothoth from me.'_

He's midway through his show – gosh, it's good to be back! – and has just clicked over to a commercial break when there's a knock at the door.

It's Ted, beaming as Kevin waves him in. "Kevin, my man! Loving the show! Can hardly believe this story of yours, though. I guess you found out what was really going on with all that sandstorm energy? Can't wait to see how it all works out… guess it ends well, though, 'cause here you are!"

Kevin grins. "Yeah – spoilers! – it ends well. Or… it mostly ends well."

He knows his voice has fallen slightly at that, but tries to hide it with a brighter smile. Ted, however, isn't fooled. "What happened? C'mon, you can tell me!"

"Well… OK, so I just got to the part where it turns out that the amazingly beautiful and _insanely_ hot Carlos has a twin brother, right?"

"Yeah… I can just _imagine_ the look on your face when you came to on that floor and found them both staring down at you."

" _Tell_ me about it. So – spoilers – it turns out that Carlos' equally beautiful and insanely hot twin brother, Tomas…"

"…wait," Ted interrupts, "the twin is named Tomas?"

"Yes," Kevin replies. "Why?"

"Kevin… I know the guy," Ted tells him. "You know I said I had a friend in the scientific community who's good at spacetime stuff? Yeah, that's Tomas! And you know what's even weirder? I knew he was single, and totally into guys, and I was going to try setting you up on a blind date, only he said he wasn't dating anymore because of some thing that happened in Dallas and that he was dedicating his life to science now. So… does the story end with you asking him out?"

"…No," Kevin answers, unable to keep a flicker of sadness out of his voice now. "No, it… it ends with me driving him home and not knowing what to say, and then… then nothing. Seriously, Ted, what's wrong with me?"

"Well, I'm not an objective witness, on account of being into girls, but from where I'm standing there's nothing wrong with you, and if I _wasn't_ only into girls and _wasn't_ happily married with two adorable children, I would totally hit that."

"Thanks!" Kevin says, brightening a little. "I guess… I'll figure it out eventually."

"I know you will," Ted tells him. "Besides, you're not at the end of the story yet."

"Very true," Kevin agrees. "I am about to go live again, though. You should keep listening. The best part's coming up!"

"I don't doubt it," Ted replies, before he steps out. "I don't doubt it."

***

The afternoon is drawing in, and the first hints of sunset are glittering at the edges of the low clouds out the window as Kevin finally clicks over to the weather. As he does, he pulls out his phone, and…

…oh. He has a message. A text. It's from an unknown number – though not a blocked one – and reads, simply, _'I need to see you. Can you meet me once you're done with the show? I'll be waiting in the parking lot of the Denny's out on Kismet Street. ~ Tomas.'_

Kevin stares at the screen, as if daring it to change, or somehow admit that this is some sort of trick. But it isn't. The letters stay where they are, still formed into those same words.

 _'Of course,'_ he texts back. _'I'll be there as soon as I can.'_

Could this mean..?

For once in his life, Kevin doesn't dare even think it.

***

As soon as he's done with the show, Kevin heads out, leaping into his car and driving across town to the place in question. The sun is well and truly setting as he gets there; the last of the hazy orange glow starting to fade into the deep indigo of night.

The parking lot is almost empty, though there – at the far edge – is a car identical to Carlos', except that it's bright red. Tomas is here, sitting on the trunk and watching the sunset, though he looks over as Kevin parks nearby and hurries across to him.

"What is it?" he asks. "Is everything all right? It isn't the guys from the vague-yet-menacing government agency, is it?"

He's been wondering about that on the drive over. Wondering if all this might in fact be the start of more trouble – and, yes, more adventures – instead of… well. Instead of something else.

"No," Tomas replies. "No, nothing like that. I just… I wanted to see you."

His words are everything. Everything! Sunlight and productivity and the low, insidious heat of invoking a really _powerful_ demonic entity, and Kevin is momentarily dumbstruck.

"…How did you get my number?" he finally manages, knowing that this is probably the most pathetic thing he could have said and _seriously_ , why can't he get a word right around this guy?

Tomas just grins a little. "Carlos gave it to me."

"…Carlos doesn't _have_ my number," Kevin points out.

This makes Tomas grin even more. "Oh, did you fall for my brother's so-very-innocent routine?" he asks.

"Apparently so!" Kevin replies, grinning a little too, now. "I thought he was the _good_ twin!"

"He _is_ the good twin. _Never_ trust the good twin!"

"I'll bear that in mind."

There's a moment's pause, and then Tomas headtilts, patting the space beside him on the trunk. It's a clear invitation, so Kevin clambers up, sitting next to him.

"I owe you an explanation," Tomas says. "I've avoided you for over a year and you deserve to know why. In the beginning… OK, yes, it was because I'd sworn off dating after what happened in Dallas and the whole thing with the scientists from the vague-yet-menacing government agency kidnapping me and my brother and… well, you know all that stuff now. But, see, the thing is… I was scared. I mean, I've had plenty of relationships over the years; heck, I even dated a couple of girls at the same time back in college, just to see what it was like, which was helpful all around because it turns out I'm not into girls at all and they realised they weren't into _guys_ at all and… well, it was interesting, and… sorry, I'm rambling… Anyway. It's always been so easy for me to fall in and out of relationships. Always. Even… you know. Even the Dallas guy. And then I end up here with orders to watch you and… and when I finally saw you…"

"…you weren't sure?"

Tomas takes his hand. "Kevin. I fell in love _instantly_."

Just hearing this is like running into a brick wall. A very, very lovely brick wall, but a brick wall all the same. Kevin stares.

"…And I was scared," Tomas goes on. "Because until that moment… I didn't realise I'd never been in love before. Even with the Dallas guy. I'd just fooled around and had my fun and… and there you were, with your smile that's like sunshine and your way of just breezing happily through even the most unbelievable cataclysms, and that little song you sing to yourself when you're walking home, and… OK, stalkery, sorry. I just… knew, the moment I saw you. And I knew, the moment I tried talking to you, I'd mess it up and lose my one shot at a _real_ relationship. So I hid from you for over a year, and decided it was just better to get on with things, and then all of a sudden the world's going crazy and you're on the run with my brother and…"

Seemingly aware that this has been quite a long paragraph, Tomas falls silent. Kevin just keeps staring, not quite daring to do any more in case he breaks the sheer wonder of this moment.

"…and then you went into that energy chamber and I thought you were dead and… and that's when I knew I _had_ to say something if you survived because… because I couldn't bear the thought of you never knowing. Even if I did mess it up. And… and then Carlos took me down into the seismic monitoring station and shouted at Bill a bit for irradiating those government agents and then he shouted at _me_ a lot for not having said anything this entire time and then he gave me your number and told me to stop being an idiot. So… here I am. Stopping being an idiot."

Throwing caution to the wind, Kevin reaches out, grabs hold of Tomas, and drags him in to kiss, hard and quick. The beautiful scientist stares at him as he pulls back just enough to make eye contact, clearly stunned and delighted in equal measure.

"…Do you want to maybe get coffee sometime?" Tomas manages. "Or… even dinner?"

"Yes," Kevin tells him, as the whole world falls perfectly into place. "Yes. That would be good."

Tomas pulls him back in to kiss again; longer this time, and more involved, and _wow_ but he feels so wonderful that Kevin can't believe his luck. Can't believe everything is finally so completely _perfect_.

"…Or…" Tomas adds, as they break for oxygen, "…if you want, we could skip the coffee and dinner – at least for now – and you could just come straight back to my place. You know, if you like."

Kevin answers this by pulling him in and kissing him again, and then says, "…Yes. I would like that a lot."

Overhead, the sky is coming alive with stars, though those clouds on the horizon suggest that another storm of beautiful bloodrain can't be far off. Until it arrives, there is only this: starlight, moonlight, and the glow of those strange lights up above the Denny's that no one quite understands.

…Oh. Maybe, in some strange way, Kevin _does_ understand them, now. He doesn't have Cecil's memories – he never has – but in this moment… he's sure some flicker of one of them crosses his mind nonetheless: a parking lot, like this one, but over in Night Vale. A beautiful scientist, sitting on his car. Lights, in the sky overhead…

And he smiles. He and Cecil may be separate now… but perhaps their lives are still more mirrored than they realise.

Yes. Oh yes.

He understands the lights.


End file.
